PROTEST!
by AngeloftheMorning1978
Summary: WARNING! EROTICA! 1900 A&A AU. Ariadne is arrested at a women's rights protest. Her husband, Arthur bails her out.
1. Chapter 1

**Protest**

** WARNING! EROTICA!**

** 1900 A&A AU. Ariadne is arrested at a women's rights protest. Her husband, Arthur bails her out.**

1.

Ariadne smoothed out her piratical black skirt and tried to sit so that her back wouldn't touch the filthy walls of her cell.

Cecilia, Ann and Mary were with her and looked likewise uncomfortable and scared.

"The jailer says we'll be let out tomorrow if our husbands refuse to come and collect us." Mary said reassuringly. She was an older woman, in her early forties. She had been arrested just a few weeks ago for another protest outside of a men's social club.

Ariadne had thought her so heroic at the time. This smart, independent woman who's husband believed that women should get the vote. He even allowed them to hold their meeting in the front parlor until the police showed up one morning to drag one of the members back home to her parents.

It wasn't illegal to have such clubs for ladies. Mary called it the sewing circle, but husbands and parents of grown women didn't like the idea of their wives and daughters talking about politics. Ariadne's own father wanted to shut her away in an asylum for her talk of free will and equality.

It had been a miserable home she had so desperately escaped from almost six months before. Her father had wanted his grown daughter married and happily settled at any cost. Thusly, she found herself wedded to his business manger, Arthur Brandon.

Arthur, at times, had about as much tolerance for women's suffrage as her father. Although he never threatened her with violence or exile to an asylum. He didn't believe women had the right to vote and should be satisfied to be the homemakers, divine providence had indeed them to be.

Ariadne hated the idea that some some police officer was right now explaining to her husband that his wife had had rotten fruit and vegetables thrown at her while she protested. That she had been arrested for disturbing the peace while those men who threw things at them laughed and told them to go home.

Arthur was a proud man and would be very unhappy about her arrest. She had no doubt her husband would come for her. He was many things, but never neglectful.

"Mrs. Brandon?" the jailer said sternly as the groan of heavy metal doors opened and the three women tensed and heard footsteps.

Ariadne stood. Let it be one of the women from her group coming to bail her out, anyone but...

"Hello, dear." Arthur said gravely as she wrapped her arms around her chest and refused to look at him.

"Afraid there was a bit of trouble with the ladies. No fault on your behalf, sir." The jailer said to Arthur as he opened the door so that she could leave with her husband.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked as she sensed him looking over her once fine clothing, now stained with rotting food those men had thrown at her.

Her normally neatly pinned hair was disheveled and her skin must look awful.

She nodded and didn't look at her husband. Like wise, he kept his distance from her.

"There is another form you must sign to release her to your custody, sir." the jailer said as she took one last look at her friends and fellow protesters.

Mary waved at her and she felt she had to be strong.

"Certainly, sir." Arthur said to the jailer. Ariadne remained quite. This was men's talk and didn't involve her. Her place was to keep silent.

She almost hurt herself from the effort of not saying a word. Not telling the jailer how she was not a child. How it wasn't shameful to demand to be treated with respect and how it wouldn't hurt him at all to show her the same consideration he would show a man.

But that might enrage Arthur even more, and she could sense she was already in trouble.

She knew it was normal for a husband to correct his wife on occasion. Often times there were women who wore black eyes and who's husband's or father's would hit them for their misbehavior. Mary said it was wrong and one of the first laws that needed to be passed was against violence towards women.

"After all, we're not cattle. We're not there for their labor, pleasure or breeding stock." Mary had told them.

It had been a wonderful and scandalous speech. One that had filled Ariadne with wild ideas about what she would tell Arthur when she got home. But, just now, that bravery was gone.

She watched her husband in his neatly pressed suit sign her out.

_Mrs. Arthur Brandon._

She didn't even get her own name anymore. She was white washed over into something that wasn't even a real person.

"I've a taxi waiting for us." he said simply to her as she kept her eyes away from him and focused on the floor.

She nodded and started for the front door.

"Wait." he said and put his hand on her shoulder. She tensed up at the contact. Six months of marriage and she still wasn't used to him touching her without warning.

She watched as he shrugged off his long black coat and draped it over her shoulders. Covering her arms and small body completely.

"There's a chill in the air." he explained and secured his coat so that it covered the stains on her clothing. He didn't want people on the street to see her clothing was anything less than perfect.

"Thank you." she said weakly. Her voice so raw from all the shouting she had done that day, she barely spoke above a whisper.

"Ready to go home? Mrs. Marsh has prepared a dinner for you." Arthur said.

"What about Mary and the others?" Ariadne whispered as Arthur put his large hand to the small of her back and lead her out the police station.

"They are not my responsibility, so I didn't ask." Arthur said curtly.

Ariadne stiffened at the insulting nature of what he had said. Just when she thought she knew her enigma of a husband, he reverted to the classical brut she had first thought him to be. The man who ran the bank her father owned. The gentleman he had brought home for dinner and persuaded to court her.

The man she had to marry or be shipped off like a bad girl to some asylum for her radical behavior. It was a fate that happened to many women who didn't act like society wanted. Who couldn't pretend to be happy house wives when they wanted so much more. Who protested their husband's and father's God like rule over their lives as if they were incapable of living them themselves.

"I see." she said as her husband lead her to the waiting carriage.

~ They said little on the ride home. The groomsman was within ear shot and Arthur wouldn't dare let a stranger know his home life was anything but perfect. It was no doubt shameful to him that his wife, a lady from a wealthy family, had been arrested.

She felt she had wounded her husband more than she intended. She didn't think about how it would embarrass him, or hurt him.

"I'm sorry, Arthur." she said weakly. She didn't want to cry, and clutched his coat tighter around her body.

"We'll discuss it, at home." he said in a mechanical voice she knew meant trouble.

With a sinking dread, she wished that the drive would last longer. She didn't want to go home just now. Arthur was too angry, she could tell. She didn't want to face any kind of reprimand or punishment for her actions today.

She turned away from him and watched the windows. Her gaze focusing on a little girl with no shoes on, selling flowers.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

~ Ariadne knew that Arthur didn't like to talk about the poor that teamed the streets of New York. Thusly, he didn't like for her to even think about the poor girl, with no shoes, selling pretty violets on this blustery cold evening.

She was too thin, and her her clothes were thread bare. She looked as though she had stepped right out of a Dickens novel and brought with her the large masses of unwashed, hungry and blighted souls who failed to find prosperity in this new land.

She knew her cold hearted husband thought that the poor chose to be poor. There was no earthy reason why they should be poor in a city and country that was over crowded with work for immigrants. He believed they were unwilling to change, unwilling to work hard and chose to drink or lay about instead of building themselves up.

He wouldn't listen to her argument that they didn't speak the language or understand all the laws or customs.

To Arthur, that was no excuse.

"They must learn, or parish. That's natural selection." he had said.

She rolled her eyes at the memory and nudged the footman to slow the horse.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked as she fished into his coat pocket and came up with a five dollar bill. A hefty sum that she knew he always carried around with him just in case. To her husband, who made a good living and lived modestly, it was nothing. To this child, five dollars meant food for more than a week.

"Flower girl?" she called out to the girl who's flaming red hair was sticking out from under her shawl.

The child ran in her bare feet that were blackened by the street.

"Flower, misses?" she said in a thick Irish accent.

"Yes, please." Ariadne said and the girl passed her a lovely violet that was blooming with color.

Ariadne handed the girl the bill and nodded for her to keep it.

"I want you to buy some shoes. It won't do to have your feet freeze. A proper lady always keeps her feet covered." Ariadne said in a voice she hoped wouldn't hurt the child's feelings. She didn't want to shame the little girl for something she couldn't help. But encourage her to become better.

"Yes, Miss." the girl said eagerly and ran away as if from the scene of a crime.

"She'll take that money and give it to her father. It will be in the bar man's till before midnight. She'll still be barefoot and hungry. You've just thrown money away." Arthur said darkly as he watched the child run off to a dilapidated building.

Doubtless she would bring it to her long suffering mother and food might be gotten before it was lost to the drink.

"It's the latest fashion, dear." Ariadne said cooly. "Throwing money away."

Arthur seemed amused by the comment and she saw him smirk a little as the driver kicked the horse into a trot again and they were driven to their home.

~ She didn't like to admit that Arthur was right. Didn't like to agree that the little girl might go shoeless all winter. She hated to admit he was right.

Since their first meeting a year ago, she had seen him as her enemy more than her anything else. Someone she must keep at a distance and do battle with at all times.

She placed her hand to her cheek at the memory of first meeting her husband.

~ Her father had stuck her hard on the face because she had talked back to him. He was a large, beefy man who grew easily frustrated by the daughter who read too much, and refused to know her place.

"Tom!" mother had cried and tried to stand in the way so Ariadne wouldn't be struck again. "She's young, she doesn't know what she's doing!"

"Going to meeting where women talk about standing in front of court houses!" her father roared. "Standing on the streets holding signs like an advertisement! Like a common street whore! I harbor a snake in my house! I won't have it!"

Ariadne had cowered away from her father's wrath. She had long ago accepted she wasn't loved by him as her older brother was. Her father had no time for a daughter and she knew he saw her as a burden. Trouble until she was married off to a good family.

"Tom! No!" mother was crying as her father threw the flyers Ariadne had been keeping under her bed into the fire. Brightly colored sheets of paper advertising the suffrage movement.

"You will not pollute this house with this trash. It is your duty to care for your parents and family. Not to interfere with the world of men! Sky above, what would people think of you? Parading around demanding the vote? You're telling the world that you could never marry and you wish to be born a man! People will think you a sapphic!" he bellowed.

A few days later, Arthur had come to dinner.

Ariadne had judged him to be a reserved young man who didn't show any interest in her at all. He didn't engage her in conversation the way other potential suiters were keen to do. Instead, he and her father talked about the bank and interest rates all evening.

Afterward, mother told her she would have to start seeing a special doctor who treated ladies with hysteria if she didn't stay calm and allow this Mr. Brandon to spend time with her.

Ariadne wasn't sure what that meant at the time, but wasn't keen to find out.

Arthur came to dinner most nights. After their meal, her parents would force the two of them into the parlor to exchange uncomfortable small talk about the weather and dry, boring small talk.

She knew her father wanted her to marry this emotionally distant young man. A young man who would listen to her talk about her friend's garden, but who she knew, would never tolerate talk about immigrant rights, poverty, class warfare and worst of all, women's rights.

Still, Arthur wasn't too much like her father. He wasn't given to fits of violent rages and never drank. He was modest and calm as anyone she had ever met. She would have been a fool not to marry him.

~ She looked at her husband. His features pulled into a look of general grumpiness. She opened her mouth to apologize once more, but closed it again. Arthur wasn't the type to accept an apology. His love and trust wasn't easily won.

~ Mrs. Marsh greeted them in the foyer as soon as they were home. Arthur had paid the taxi and Ariadne had beaten him to the door. Child like, she wanted to get as far away from him as possible.

"Oh, I was worried, Ma'am." the elderly lady said as Ariadne shrugged off Arthur's coat. Her husband, ever spry with his long legs, was right behind her and took his long coat, neatly hanging it on the rack by the door and smoothing it out.

Ariadne was grateful Mrs. Marsh was there. Arthur would never punish her or raise his voice to her in front of the staff. She was safe for now.

"Mrs!" the widowed housekeeper exclaimed. "What has happened to you?"

"A bit of a debacle at a friends winter canning party." Arthur explained for her. "It seems the ladies were too enthusiastic about how much canning they could do for charity in one afternoon and Mrs. Brandon neglected to wear and apron."

Ariadne glared at her husband.

He never called her by her name in front of Mrs. Marsh or anyone else. He only called her 'Dear' when they were alone. She rarely heard her given name on his lips.

She saw him give her a scornful look as he walked past Mrs. Marsh and peep into the kitchen.

"You've been up to no good, Mrs. Marsh." he teased as the smell of a beef stew perfumed the house and made Ariadne's stomach growl.

She hadn't realized how hungry she was until just this moment.

"Oh, yes." Mrs. Marsh giggled like a school girl and Aradidne felt a little better. The old woman had been a poor widow for five years now. Arthur had hired her to be his live in maid so she wouldn't fall destitute. In return, she cooked and cleaned for him and Ariadne saw the pair were more like mother and son that employer and employee.

"Mrs. Marsh, would you mind running a hot bath for Mrs. Brandon? She's had a long day and I would like her to be dressed properly for dinner." Arthur said as he unbuttoned the cufflinks on his shirt and prepared for his nightly ritual or reading the newspaper and perhaps a few pages of whatever book caught his eye.

He was a creature of intense habit, one that Ariadne could almost set her watch by.

'_Six o'clock, come home. Six fifteen, ask about dinner and read until seven. Eight o'clock, read and make small talk with me about whatever sewing project I'm working on, or more reading. Always asking if I want to read the society sections.'_

Her lip quivered at the thought of how nice some of those evenings were. How thoughtful Arthur was to give her the parts of the paper he thought she might like.

She shook her head.

'_No, can't think like that. I'm a modern woman. Not a silly girl who loves to read about weddings and birth announcements. I want to read abut government and court cases being lost_.'

"Come along, dearest." Mrs. Marsh said taking her hand and leading her upstairs.

Ariadne looked back at Arthur settling himself down in his chair to read the paper. She happened to glance at the clock.

Six fifteen, right on time.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

~ Ariadne sat in the deep bathtub full of piping hot water that Mrs. Marsh had readied for her. She was grateful that her husband had insisted on the boiler that was installed in the basement before they set up housekeeping. She hadn't been used to hot water from a tap before and never grew tired of the luxury of it.

As a child, the poor scullery maid had to trudge hot water buckets to freshen the tepid water for a bi weekly bath.

Now, Ariadne could bath every night is she wanted to.

She watched her toes peek out of the foamy bathwater, shudder at the chill in the air and dipped her body lower into the warm blanket like feel of the water.

Mrs. Marsh was fond of perfuming her bath with lavender and some other mixture that was meant to relax her.

Most nights it worked extremely well. Aradidne would retire to her bedroom, her solitary bed, and fall asleep as soon and she was nestled in her soft bedding. She would fall so deeply asleep, that she didn't care if her husband slept in his own bed next door.

It was sensible and fashionable to have separate beds and rooms. A renowned doctor had said that men and women were two different creatures who couldn't possibly co-exist in such a small space as a shared bed. That such a thing was like asking a tiger and lion to share a cage. The two were capable of mating, but the chances were far better they would fight to the death.

Ariadne had to smile as she washed her body. Wondering if she was the tiger or the lion. She normally never agreed with these so called doctors and their ideas that women were another species, but she had to agree that comparing them to wild beats, was flattering.

"Miss?" Mrs. Marsh peeped her head into the bathroom and Ariadne lazily looked over at the housekeeper.

"Yes?" she asked as she could barely keep her eyes open. She could sleep right here in the bathtub and be happy.

"Mr. Brandon is asking you to come down to dinner." Mrs. Marsh said and unfolded a large towel.

Ariadne felt her rebellion rise up again.

"I think I'll just go to bed." she said. "Send him my regrets."

Mrs. Marsh shook her head.

"He was insistent. He wants you to eat dinner with him." she said.

Ariadne let out a long sigh. It was never a good thing when Arthur insisted she eat with him. Normally, she could get away with it by claiming to have women's troubles. Her poor, ignorant husband, not understanding to woes of women and too afraid to ask why she had to retire most nights. Accepting that she had to rest or risk bodily harm.

Her stomach clenched tightly at the knowledge that she was in trouble with him. That he was madder at her than he had ever been.

She climbed out of the fragrant bathwater and allowed Mrs. Marsh to help her dress and comb out her long, dark hair.

'_I should cut it all off.'_ Ariadne thought spitefully. '_Arthur loves to touch my hair when he comes to be at night. He wants it down and around my face. I should cut it short like a boy._'

She winced as Mrs. Marsh repined her shinny hair back into a suitable style and told her to hurry and dress.

Ariadne felt more like a child than ever. That she was never an adult, that Arthur was more her second father than her husband. She did as Mrs. Marsh asked and slipped on a heavy, dressing robe Arthur had given her during their honeymoon.

It was cut and styled to look, not at all like a robe, but a dress. This way, she could be comfortable and still look appropriate.

It was another nice thing he did for her without asking.

She looked decent enough, and followed Mrs. Marsh downstairs to find her husband already seated at the dinning table.

"Thank you, Mrs. Marsh." he said cooly when the women appeared.

Ariadne took her place at the large table, meant to seat ten, and didn't look at Arthur.

She knew he saw the robe she was wearing and disapproved.

"Not feeling well?" he asked stiffly.

"Very tired." she said and didn't look at him. Mrs. Marsh was in the kitchen getting their dinner and they were alone for the first time.

"Yes, standing outside a senator's personal home and shouting at him, getting arrested with those women, that would exhaust anyone." he said darkly.

She felt a pain spear her heart. He was mocking her. She knew he didn't think women should get the vote, but he thought her protest, her cause, was a joke.

"I was proud to be out there with those women. They're very brave." Ariadne said and sipped her water.

"Oh yes. You should be proud to be laughed at by strange men. To have food thrown at you. To be arrested for disturbing a public officials home life and upsetting his wife." Arthur said sarcastically.

"His wife _should_ be upset." Ariadne bit back. "Her husband wants to pass laws saying a woman can't press charges against her rapist. That a male relative of her family has to do it. He has even said that a husband has every right to rape his wi-"

Arthur banged his fist on the table and Ariadne jumped.

"Enough!" he almost bellowed.

Mrs. Marsh, thankfully returned with a soup tureen of her warm stew and both husband and wife composed themselves.

"Here we are, sir." she said contentedly.

"Thank you, Mrs. Marsh. Why don't you call it an early night? I'm sure you're worn out already." Arthur said with difficulty.

"I think I will, sir." Mrs. Marsh said and looked a little peaked. "Thank you."

"We'll be fine." Arthur told her and the poor widow, no husband to provide for her, left them alone.

Arthur helped himself to the stew and Ariadne fought back tears.

"Eat something." he ordered after he spooned a hearty supply of stew for himself.

"I'm not hungry." she said and felt her voice shake.

"Eat your dinner. I won't have you starve." he said with more steel to his voice.

She didn't move. She didn't look at him.

"Ariadne, I promised your father I would take care of you. Allowing you to go hungry is not exactly keeping my promise, is it?" his voice had suddenly grown calmer. Softer. A lower tone meant only for her to hear.

He had also called her by her first name.

She bit her lip hard as her stomach roared for Mrs. Marsh's stew.

She spooned a small amount into her bowl. Just enough to blunt her hunger and little else.

"That's all?" he asked.

"I keep telling you, I'm not hungry." she hissed and smoothed a cloth napkin over her lap.

Arthur sat back, his face pulling into a scowl that meant he was insulted by her back talk.

"Very well." he said harshly, and they ate in heavy silence.

As soon as she was finished eating, she sat and waited for Arthur to dismiss her. A thing he seemed unwilling to do just yet.

"I think I'll retire early myself tonight." she said in a breathless, school girl air that meant she was untroubled and carefree.

"No." Arthur said grumpily as he finished eating his own dinner.

"I'm not feeling well. Ladies troubles." Ariadne clarified.

"Ahh, the same as last week." Arthur said in a mocking tone.

Ariadne bit her lip and glowered at him.

"You may be interested to know your court date is next week. A thing which will play out in the papers to the delight of everyone I work with." he said angrily.

"Next week? What about the other women I was arrested with? They'll have to languish in that filthy jail cell for a week if no one bails them out?" Ariadne gasped in horror.

"That is the risk you all took when you broke the law, Dear." Arthur said coldly. "One can not verbally assault an elected man at his own home."

"We were holding him acceptable for crimes against women!" Ariadne retorted.

"Oh, yes." Arthur laughed. "Remind me again how you are a victim of crime, Mrs. Brandon!"

He waved an arm around their fine dinning room.

"I've provided you with a nice home. Money for dresses and parties should you wish them. Tell me, convincingly, that you are a victim." he laughed.

"It's not about me!" Ariadne said. She wished she had Mary's words to help her now. Wished she could quickly find the right thing to say to put Arthur in his place. "It's about all women. It's about how it's perfectly legal for a husband to beat his wife. How the law prohibits women, and does nothing to protect them."

"You honestly believe this new age garbage?" Arthur said scornfully. "That women are just as capable as men in manners of work and government?"

"Give me one reason why not." Ariadne challenged.

Arthur rolled his eyes as though she were a silly girl.

"Well, Mrs. Brandon, based on your behavior tonight, they are hysterical creatures who are given to rash episodes of temperament. Those attributes do not go well in the real world. We're a modern city, not the wild west. I do not need a wife working in the fields, as it were." he said.

"I'm not asking for the world, Mr. Brandon." she said stiffly. "Just for a chance to be part of it."

Arthur looked offended and more than a little hurt. He took a sip of water, placed his glass neatly back on the table and stood.

"Go upstairs." he ordered.

She felt fear race through her body. Her belly clenching tightly and an excitement tickle her like a feather touch.

"No." she whispered.

"Go upstairs to my room." he said calmly. "_Now_, Mrs. Brandon."

She tried to steel herself as she stood. She knew what was coming and couldn't stop shaking.

"Arthur?" she said softly. Her voice pleading as he returned to her a look of cold, detachment.

"Go upstairs to my room." he ordered again and she, the dutiful wife, obeyed him.


	4. Chapter 4

4.

~ Her husband had chosen a newly built brownstone house for him and his bride. It's neighborhood was populated by doctors and lawyers. The newly minted middle class people that annoyed the wealthy.

The new rich suddenly had money for luxuries they never had before, and looking around her husband's bedroom, she saw that Arthur had his own vices for luxury.

Ariadne wasn't used to being in her husband's bedroom. She was a well brought up lady who didn't feel the same urges in the night that men did. Thusly, it wouldn't have been seemly to come to his bedroom at all.

His was the largest bedroom in the home. Complete with a marble fireplace and and private bathroom. She didn't care for the heavy, oak furnishings. The colors were too dark in the rugs and bedding for her taste, but is seemed to suit her husband's moody nature very well.

She was surprised to see that Mrs. Marsh had lit a fire in the hearth for him. The room was so large that drafts from the front facing windows made this bedroom far colder.

She shivered a little and wrapped her arms around her body.

Ariadne was never in here. When Arthur wanted to take his privileges with her, he would knock in her bedroom door late at night. If she felt generous, which wasn't often, she would let him in. It was more her duty than anything else.

What would follow was always frightening for her. Her husband's large hands pulling on her clothing. Wanting her naked when all her life she had been trained too keep those delicate parts concealed.

She didn't dislike the things they did, but always felt like a bad person. As though people who saw her now would know that she had relations with a man. God forbid she should become in a family way. Then, people would know for sure and she would die of embarrassment.

"Cold?" she heard a voice ask behind her.

She turned to see her husband shutting the bedroom door and locking it.

"Arthur, I'm very tired tonight." she said hastily.

She wasn't in the mood for his attempts to woo her into his bed. To try and trick her into enjoying what all men needed.

Their wedding night had been shocking and she was ready to call the law for his lustful behavior. Like a proper lady, she had been raised with no knowledge of these things, and her mother had been too well bread to tell her what to expect.

When he had climbed into bed with her, started to remove his clothing, she almost screamed in horror.

But over the past few months, she had grown more accustomed to his male needs. It didn't make things easier. Good girls were not supposed to like submission to a husband. It was just something that had to be done.

"We can go to bed soon." he said and unfastened his cufflinks and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

He unbuttoned his vest as he walked to his wardrobe. The fine oak furniture that housed his suits and coats.

"I think we can talk about this in the morning." Ariadne said worriedly. She didn't want to lay in the same bed as her husband tonight. Didn't want to submit to his hands on her body again.

"We're done talking." Arthur said quickly as she saw him pull out a leather belt from the wardrobe?

"Mr. Brandon?" she questioned worriedly.

Arthur had slowly turned to her. His face looked disappointed and angry.

"Take your robe off, Mrs. Brandon." he ordered.

Her hands clutched the collar of her robe. Grateful for the protection of thick fabric and layers.

"What are you going to do?" she asked and took a step away from him as he approached her.

"Take your robe off." he said again as his eyes raked over her body.

"Arthur, this is lud-"

She was cut off by his hands in her hair. Pulling free the easy up-do that Mrs. Marsh had put her long, dark hair in just an hour before.

"Stop it!" she cried feebly as her hair cascaded down past her shoulders.

"Take your robe off." he demanded.

"If you think I'm going to stand here and let you whip me-"

"That's exactly what your going to do." He said harshly. "You have embarrassed not only yourself, but me today. It's not something I can just forgive and forget, Mrs. Brandon."

She pulled away from him again as his fingers combed through her long, curling locks.

He didn't seem to see the look of hatred in her eyes.

"You brought this on yourself. You couldn't have expected me to just let this go." he said said soothingly.

She looked down at the leather strap that was in his hand. A piece of raw leather used for sharpening his strait razors and made a handy, and stinging, instrument for abuse.

"Today, I stood up for women asking not to be abused by their own husbands. The same men who vow to love and protect them. But I see now that I'm wedded to a brute." she said defiantly.

Arthur stepped close to her. Like a jungle cat pouncing in it's prey. His nose was in her hair, his lips on her ear as he held her face perfectly still next to his.

"It's because I love you, because I hold you to such esteem, I must correct you." he whispered.

She looked slowly up at him. His voice seeming so sincere.

'_Don't believe him_.' she told herself.

"I didn't flinch away, or cry when those men threw rotten tomatoes and apples at me. I was protesting against an injustice, so, I won't cry now. What I did was right." she said and pulled away from his gentle hands.

Her fingers went to the braided belt that secured her dressing robe and she started to pull it off.

Her robe fell off her body, exposing her thin, cotton night dress to the cool air of Arthur's bedroom. A room that was too drafty for her taste. She moved closer to the fire and stood as strait as a post. Bracing herself for the brutal and caveman like punishment she was about to receive.

Her eyes were strait ahead as she tried to ignore Arthur's moving around her. Her hands finally worriedly clasped in front as she felt him stand close behind her.

"As you wish." he whispered in her ear.

She flinched as he pulled her night dress up and rolled it neatly to expose her bare bottom. She hadn't bothered with panties when she wasn't on her cycle. There was already so much underthings to put on, she didn't bother with the cumbersome extra layer.

Now, however, she was hotly embarrassed to have her round flesh, not seen by anyone since she was a babe in arms lewdly facing her husband.

She started to step away. Her hands itching to pull down her night dress, give Arthur a slap in the face and go back to her rooms. She would, but she sensed that would give him some satisfaction. The satisfaction that she didn't have the courage to stand up for her convictions.

'_Let him punish me. Let him embarrass me_.' she thought. The voice in her head sounding a lot like Mary's just now as her cheeks burned hot with humiliation.

She almost stopped breathing when she felt Arthur's hand, gentle and firm on her bottom. The fire warming her flesh from the chill as his large hand caressed her flesh in a way she hated to admit she liked.

It was during one such coupling, after they were married, he would graze his hands over her skin and she wanted to die from pleasure.

She shivered slightly as his hand steadily moved over her bottom. Her mind wondering if he was ever going to strike her when she felt a sharp, punishing blow to one of her cheeks. He had spanked her with such a direct force, she was on tiptoe.

However, he didn't hit her with the leather strap, he had spanked her with his bare hand. A hand that was now smoothing over the area he had just wounded with gentle circular movements.

She had to remember to breath as his hand rubbed away the flames that pricked her skin from the slap.

"Are you alright?" he asked in a husky voice she wasn't used to hearing from him.

She swallowed hard and nodded.

"Good, because we're just getting started." he said.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

Ariadne tried to remain calm. Tried to slow her breathing as she looked up at her husband to see if he was joking.

A cold ripple of fear trickled down her body and into her belly as she met his eyes and saw he wasn't flinching. His gaze was just as cool and hard as it was at dinner.

"Mr. Brandon?" she asked feeling a sense of panic grow inside her blood.

Arthur's face looked like it was carved from stone as his finger curled around her dark locks.

"Take your night gown off." he said in a voice that dripped with danger.

She felt her pulse spark at these words. The very idea! She was only ever naked when she bathed and her modesty wouldn't even permit her to look in the mirror at herself. Her flesh, breasts and other womanly parts were something to be hidden and to be ashamed of. The disgrace of standing int he middle of Arthur's room, naked was too much.

"No." she said sharply and felt her feet itch to move away from him. Her bare bottom was still exposed to the cool air and warm fire. Arthur still had his large hand resting on her check as though it were a thing that belonged to him alone.

"Mrs. Brandon," he sighed and she felt a magical stirring happening between her legs. "do not make me repeat myself again. I don't like to tell you to do things twice. Take your night gown... _off_."

He said that last part with such coldness, she quivered from just the sound of his voice.

Her hands felt over the soft cotton night gown and it's lace edgings. She had been naked with him before, their wedding night for example, but she had always been able to cover herself with blankets while he insisted on his needs.

She felt her modesty take a tight hold of her belly as she pulled the gown up, and over her head. Her long hair covering her breasts neatly as she refused to look down at herself.

She sensed her husband was breathing hard as she placed the night gown on the floor as neatly as she could; her body now vulnerable and open for all to see.

She was defenseless.

To make things worse, Arthur gently pushed her hair over her shoulders so that it fully exposed her breasts. His hand even cupping and tweaking the nipple so hard she jumped a little.

"Stand still. Stand at attention." he ordered. "Keep out back strait, your head and shoulders high. You were so proud before, Mrs. Brandon, what happened to that willful girl at my dinner table?"

"She... she was wearing clothing." Ariadne stammered and tried to cover her breasts with her arm. A reflex she couldn't help.

"Never do that again." he ordered and pushed her arms back to her side. "Stand just like this. This is how I want you."

"Arthur, this..." she tried to plead as it felt like a strange and wonderful itch was alive and hungry inside her. Her husband's hands were everywhere. Moving over her legs, her belly, touching her breasts and finally.

"Arthur!" she cried as his fingers dipped in between her legs. That strange place she had been forbidden by her mother and nurse maid to touch except when cleaning. A place that Arthur was always starved for.

"Hold still." he growled as she tried to move away. One hand was wrapped around her hair, keeping her in place, the other, tickling her delicate, heated mystery.

She didn't exactly protest when she felt his fingers rub and stroke her. Instead, her treasonous body seemed to like what he was doing. The rocking feel of his fingers and thumb rubbing, rubbing, rubbing as her hair was held fast so she couldn't escape.

"Why, Mrs. Brandon. You should be ashamed." he teased as he whispered in her ear and her skin burned with embarrassment.

"You're the one who should be ashamed, you... OH!" something grabbed hold of her. With an artful stroke, he had sent that hot secret place between her legs into a riot of sensitive fireworks.

She gasped like a drowning woman as he ordered her to stand up strait. His fingers never stopping as he stroked her harder and without mercy.

Her legs felt ready to crumble from under her as she instinctively pressed her hands over his large palm. Inviting and begging him to go deeper inside her. Her body, a ravenous beast for him.

"That's enough." he said as he let her go and her inner walls, her blood, her flesh and heart screamed for more. "I just wanted you ready for me."

She was panting as she tried to compose herself.

"I'll... I'll just go to my room then." she whispered weakly as her arms went to her breast and she tried to remember where she put her night gown.

"Stand still, Mrs. Brandon." he ordered. "We're hardly done."

She looked back at him in surprise. Wasn't her punishment over? He had spanked her. Embarrassed her by making her be totally nude, and touched her. All while not in bed and hidden by blankets. Surely he wasn't so cruel as to-

"Stand strait. Stick you're chest out." he ordered as he brushed her hair back so he could see and touch her breasts again.

She could hardly believe this was happening. What else could he possibly do?

She felt the sting of his hand hit her bottom, one two... three times. The sharp pain made her almost jump on her tip toe as his large hand immediately rubbed over the flesh he had just assaulted.

His free hand was grasping her hair once more as; one, two, three, four, five slaps to the other cheek.

"I said stick your chest out. You're the proud one today. Be proud now!" he said angrily as his hand went to work on rubbing away the stings from her spanking.

"It hurts!" she whimpered.

"Good." he said softly. His voice sympathetic and kind. "I need this to hurt."

"Arthur." she cried as she sensed he was going to spank her again and she tried to pull away. Her husband's fist was full of her hair and her escape was quickly halted.

"Keep your arms at your side." he ordered when she tried to free her locks from his hand. "Do it, or I'll have to start over."

She wanted to cry when he spanked her again and again. Each slap making her flesh sting and become hot to the touch.

"Now, the belt." he said in a labored voice. Almost like he was in pain.

She nodded as she felt him run the leather strap over her injured and hot bottom. Her flesh raw and sensitive to the feel of the course material.

"Keep your hands to your side." he ordered and touched her between the legs with the rough leather.

She let out a grateful moan. When as she become so sensitive there? The leather was horrible. Dry and full of imperfections. A true thing of torment to the touch. So why did it feel so good when Arthur slowly and deliberately ran it over her forbidden places?

She opened her legs wider, and he obligingly touched her deeper with the leather strap. His hands holding back her hair the whole time as his weapon of choice threatened her most delicate parts.

"You look so beautiful." he whispered in her ear.

She was in a daze of pain from the spanking and pleasure from the way he was touching her, she didn't understand.

She leaned back slightly and he was behind her. His leather strap molesting her as he finally released her hair and touched her breasts.

"Your bottom is exactly how I want it to be. It's red and looks almost ripe." he said in her ear as she wanted him to suddenly penetrate her with that leather strap.

"But we have to make it a little redder." he said and pulled her head back once more by her hair.

She cried out softly in protest to the leather strap going away. She wanted it back. Her sweet spot begging for his attention, any attention.

"Hold still." he said as her hands cupped herself between the legs and she felt a wash of comfort.

He was breathing hard as she knew what would happen next.

"Hold, still and count with me." he ordered.

She kept her eyes closed. Her body in a state of strange bliss as she rubbed her folds and felt how wet and smooth they were.

It was like floating in the ocean before a rouge wave hit.

When Arthur hit her with the leather strap, she screamed.


	6. Chapter 6

6.

~ Ariadne screamed and jumped away from her husband who's long arms quickly caught hold of her and pulled her back to him.

"That hurt!" she cried as the fire burning in her raged into an inferno.

"That's the point, _dear_." he snarled in her ear. His face, once more pressed into her hair as she shamelessly squirmed and tired to get away from him.

"Now, stand still or I'll have to start over." he added.

She held back a sob and tried to hold still as his hand once more caressed her breast and his other hand rubbed her stinging bottom.

"Keep your hands to your side." he ordered as she wanted to hold herself between the legs again. What was happening to her body, she didn't understand. It was wrong to feel so alive, so electric there. It was like she needed something to satisfy it. She wanted her hands back, she wanted Arthur's hands there, she wanted the leather strap there, but most of all, she wanted that dangerous part of male anatomy that she had been trained to fear since girlhood.

She gave a little squeak of pain as he hit her with the strap again. Her desire lighting up as his hands rubbed and soothed away the slap.

"Very good." he said in a hard voice that made him sound like he was in pain. "I want you to count with me."

She let out a pent up breath. A rouge tear running down her cheek from the sheer repression of bliss she felt.

"One." she said weakly.

"Very good." he said and his hand left her bottom.

She knew the second one was coming, and was ready for it. Her mind transforming it from pain to something more powerful. When he struck her, the impact didn't hurt as much and her inner mystery, that place in her body she never truly understood, howled with delight.

Her hands went back between her legs and she breathed out.

"Two." she said with ease.

His hands neglected her sore flesh this time and he picked up a wonderful rhythm that she matched with her hands. Her fingers rubbing over her wetness as she kept her eyes closed and allowed him to pleasure her.

"Three... four... five... six..." she panted as each slap became slightly more gentle till finally...

"Oh!" she cried out as the leather was back between her legs. Her husband was rubbing that course strap over her wetness and pushing her fingers away.

"My God, you're beautiful." he growled at her as she felt him push the leather strap menacingly between her folds. Her womanhood growing teeth and wanting more.

"Arthur." she said weakly as her knees felt ready to give out and all she wanted was for him to take her to his bed and do those terrible things all men needed to do.

His fingers were playing with her. Touching the wet hotness that was coursing between her legs as she tried to stand strait again. Her punishment so delicious now, she wanted the spanking back.

"Ariadne..." he said in a horse whisper. "Look."

She turned, and he stepped aside so she could see all of him. Her eyes widened at the sight before her. Her husband, who arrived in their marriage bed with a night shirt on, who was always buttoned down and suitable, was standing before her with his enraged maleness undone and freed from the confines of his clothing.

She didn't register immediately what she saw at first. Her husband, though they had been together, had kept his anatomy from her view so as not to scare her. The ideas of the time; was that the naked male form was traumatic for ladies to view.

She watched as his large hand caressed the shaft and head and he tried to pull her closer to him.

She was shocked by the size and girth of him. _That_ had been inside her? Their first night together, she felt he and reamed her out. The discomfort was something that made her shy to relations with him ever since.

"I want you... to do something for me." he said in a harsh, pleading whisper like he was in pain.

His hands going to her head, his fingers back in her hair as he pulled her close to him. The feel of her bare skin on the fabric of his suit was exciting.

"What?" she asked fearfully. Did he want to have relations? Was that what he was asking? They should be on the bed for this. Not standing in the middle of the bedroom. her naked and him so exposed.

He leaned in close and whispered in her ear.

"I want you to go to your knees, and take me in your mouth." he said.

She shuttered at the feel of his hot breath on her ear.

"I don't understand." she said. Her sex quivering at being so close to his and without the contact.

"I want you to suck my member, Ariadne." he told her. "I want it in your mouth and suck it, the way a babe would." he said.

"Arthur?" she whispered back. Why would she do such a thing?

"Do this for me. I've wanted this for so long, I want..." he panted and was pushing her down to her knees.

She complied and allowed him to position her as he wanted. Her view was rudely blocked by the raw piece of male anatomy making contact with her face.

She looked up at him for help and he had his hands in her hair again.

"Open your mouth." he directed. "Suck on me."

She opened her mouth, not sure what to expect or what to do.

"Suck on me. It's just like a kiss." he whispered in a ragged voice she hardly believed was his.

She nodded and kissed the head of his member like she would kiss his cheek.

"Very good. Now, lick it... and do it slowly." he ordered.

She nodded and tired to ready her mind for what she would do. Never in her life had she ever heard of this perversion, yet, Arthur seemed to want and need it so badly, she didn't want to deny him.

Her tongue started to lick up his shaft as though she were eating ice cream. His skin tasted different than she expected, but her husband seemed to shutter in delight and happiness at her touch.

"Take me in your mouth." he ordered after she had licked all of him. Her thoughts wandering to how silly she must look. Licking his maleness as if he were a tasty treat.

She looked back at him.

"Take me into your mouth. Suck on me." he said breathlessly.

She swallowed hard and parted her lips.

His membered entered her mouth slowly, the same as he chose to enter her during their infrequent relations. She was shocked at how much there was of him and how it couldn't all fit in her mouth. How after the head was past her lips, he seemed to want all of his member to be swallowed.

She gagged as he went in too deep and pulled away coughing.

"I'm sorry." he panted and pulled her rudely back into position by her hair. "Do it again." he ordered.

She took a few deep breaths and started over. His hands pushing her head down further onto his shaft as she tried to not let the whole of him choke her.

"That's it." he panted. "Suck harder."

She tired to do as he asked. Sucking on him as though trying to gain juice from an orange. He seemed to weaken at her efforts and his breathing was more labored.

"Good!" he groaned and started to push her away.

She felt soiled somehow. As if what she had done was wrong and unladylike. Even if her husband did command her to do it.

But one look at Arthur, told her she had made him very happy.

His face looked more content than ever as he helped her to stand up. His hand back to working his shaft as he looked over her naked body hungrily.

"Do we go to bed now?" she whispered hopefully. She wanted him suddenly. Wanted that dangerous thing of his inside her body. Wanted relations with him more than ever.

Arthur only glared at her and smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

7.

~ Ariadne trembled slightly at the feel of Arthur's hands on her body again. His eyes, strong and penetrating, eyes she always felt were judging her before, peered deeply into hers.

"Undress me." he commanded.

She felt a giddy rush of happiness as her hands found his tie and loosened it. The buttons on his dress vest and shirt seemed to want to come undone for her. As she was pulling him free of clothing, Arthur's fingers kept touching her skin. Tickling her delicate flesh to the point she had to let out a nervous laugh.

He quickly shushed her repressed giggle with a kiss. His mouth hungrily devouring hers as she pulled down his dress shirt and finally was rewarded with the feel of his skin making contact with hers.

The forbidden touch was so sweet, Ariadne wanted to live in the moment forever. Her breasts making contact with his bare chest as he ravaged her lips and neck.

"First time I saw you, I could barely keep my eyes off you." he said hungrily as he guided her to their bed.

"Really?" she gasped innocently.

That first dinner with him, her father had dominated the conversation and Ariadne and her mother had remained quite as the two men talked of boring things. She barely thought he had given her a sideways glance. Was surprised he had even noticed her at all.

"Your father kept talking to me..." Arthur whispered in her ear as he lowered her onto the bed. The feel of luxury bedding on her naked flesh felt even more delicious than normal. "But all I wanted was to be alone with you."

She felt her lips curl into a smile at the idea. Her memory rushing back to that first meeting. When had he looked at her?

He laid her on the bed, his own body fitting neatly, and carefully over hers. He was kind enough to not lay his whole body on her. His fear of crushing her plain as she enjoyed the feel of his lean, mass over hers. Her writs were drawn over her head as he restrained her. Her heart beating wildly at the prospect she was his prisoner. A captured woman, held down to the bed for his ravishing.

She loved the idea so much, she curled her ankles around his legs a little more.

She felt warm and safe and delightfully loved like never before.

Suddenly, his warm flesh was gone and she snapped her eyes open in alarm.

"Arthur?" she whispered weakly as her husband was positioned over her. His chest refusing to make contact with hers again.

"Never again, Ariadne." he said. His voice calm and controlled. He was once more her detached and removed husband. "You'll never again go to those ladies meetings or march in any demonstration. I won't have my wife humiliated again."

She looked back at him in confusion. She could feel his rigid maleness, so ready to take her, and he chose that moment to lecture her?

She saw he had a lock of her hair curled neatly in fingers. His thumb rolling over the satin smoothness of it.

"I'm cutting off all my hair tomorrow." she said defiantly.

He looked back at her. His eyes flashing with anger as he rested his body more securely on top of hers. Pinning her down with ease.

"No. You. Will. Not." he said slowly. Danger flashing in his eyes. She felt her courage rise and suck her chin out as she could feel his large hands clasping over her wrists more securely.

"I'm going to take my own sewing scissors and cut it all off, like a boy." she said willfully.

He was shaking his head. She knew he loved her hair the most. Loved to feel it and smell the soaps she used.

"No, you won't." he argued.

"Then how come I will?" she mocked him.

A part of her, the part that enjoyed her punishment, knew he wouldn't hit her like her father had done. Arthur wasn't that sort of man. Instead, he glared down at her, his face cold, but his eyes like fire.

She smiled a little at the small victory.

"I'm going to start wearing pants, an I-" she started to say.

He stopped her teasing with a violent kiss that she feebly tried to fight off. Her futile attempts to escape, only ended with her legs wrapping around his waist as she could feel his hardness threatening to enter her.

"God, you're hot!" he murmured in her hair and she understood nothing but her own longing desire. Her womanhood, wet and ravines, had taken over her body.

"Arthur..." she panted as he was kissing her and she spread her legs a little wider for him. His lean body fitting easily between her legs. "Arthur... please."

She could feel him smile as he nuzzled her neck. Feel him slid into her passage far easier than he ever had before. Feel her body want to pull him in as she gasped at the wonderful, electric feel that his member gave her.

"God, I love you." he panted as she knew she had broken him. No matter how strong man was, she could always break him.

Unlike every other time with her husband, she didn't feel awkward, uncomfortable or violated. She didn't want this to end. She never wanted him to leave her. Her body was starving for him. The strange fire between her legs wanted more of him. He couldn't thrust hard enough, he couldn't go deep enough to satisfy her. She wanted him to spank her again, wanted to feel the leather on her flesh. She wanted to be naked for him always.

"Oh, no!" she cried as something started to happen and she couldn't stop it.

Arthur was pumping furiously. His face distorted and angry as she felt her inner walls spasm and the sudden feel of him inside her, warm and perfect, was too much to handle.

"NO!" she screamed as he refused to stop. His mating with her in deep throws now as she felt the spasming inside her grow out of control and spin out.

She couldn't stop the thing that happened. She wanted it to be over, and it wasn't. Arthur was still moving as her womanhood snapped angrily at her. Each thrust sending fantastic, overpowering shockwaves through her body.

Suddenly, she could feel his own member spasm and her husband's body shake dangerously. She knew what it meant. She knew he would... explode soon. That animal like grunting he did when he was almost done with her. Normally she was glad. It meant he wold leave her in peace and be done with her for a while. Now, she held him close as her inner walls contracted hard around him.

"I love you." he panted as she felt a hotness seep and escape from their jointed bodies. "Please, Ariadne." he breathed as he buried his face in her hair and collapsed on top of her, exhausted.


	8. Chapter 8

8.

~ "So, you can tell me my future?" Arthur asked lazily as his arms wrapped around her small body. He was in a very good humor and his voice was teasing and kind to her.

The chill in the room had finally found them. Her skin had gone from incredibly hot, to cold just moments ago and they found refuge under the heavy blankets. Their clothing, forgotten on the floor.

Ariadne had never felt so wonderful in her life. A euphoria, such as she had never remembered feeling, washed over her and she was alive with happiness.

Her back was to Arthur, her bottom still raw and sore from the spanking, but she didn't care. He was spooned behind her and they were both content and pleased with each other for the first time in their brief marriage.

She looked harder at the lines on the palm of his hand. The girlhood memories of ghost stories and channeling the spirt world at her boarding school coming back to her.

"Well, you see here?" she said pointing to the Y section of his palm. "You're life line is very deep."

"Does that mean I'm a deep and thoughtful person?" Arthur asked nuzzling her ear. She shied away from the ticklish feel of his breath on her neck.

"No." she said and tried not to giggle. "No, it means you make things harder than they need to be. You need to relax more."

"Well, I'm relaxed now." he said and she felt his feet rub over hers.

She blushed hard as she tried to secure the sheet over her bare chest and ignored him. Her modesty finding her again, and she was embarrassed by what they had done.

"Let's see." she said and scowled at the small imperfection on his fingers. She was trying to distract him from wanting more of her. Her body, already spent, couldn't possibly handle his needs again so soon. "You work smart, and never hard." she informed him.

"Mrs. Brandon, you know all this already." he teased.

"I don't know anything about your work life." she told him truthfully. "Just that daddy gave you a promotion for marrying me."

"You think that's why I married you? To advance my career?" he asked.

She let his hand drop and he pulled her closer to his body. His chin resting on her shoulder. She could feel his delicate, wet kiss on her neck.

"Didn't you?" she challenged. "I mean, I came with a very nice dowery."

"That you did." he agreed. "A thing I haven't touched, by the way."

She wanted to look at his face and see if he was telling the truth. But she liked the way they were curled together just now.

"What do you do at work?" she asked him in an attempt to change the subject.

"I managed the tellers at the bank. Approve all loans greater than $100 and hire and fire people." he said.

"But you don't employ women."

"No. Men go to banks to settle their accounts. They want to feel their interests are protected. If a woman was looking over their books, they would think their money wasn't being attended to properly. They would take their assets and business elsewhere." he explained.

"So, a woman can't do the same job as a man." she said growing offended.

"No, she can't. It matters how the bank looks, Mrs. Brandon. When a gentleman comes into the bank, he wants to be handled in a professional way. He needs to be able to talk to other men about his money and other problems. A gentleman would never trust a woman to understand about these things.

She sat up, clutching the sheet closer to her body.

"Arthur, I'll have you know I made very high marks in arithmetic all through out school. I was even awarded the schools high academic award. I would be perfectly capable of counting change back to customers. I could also review interest rates for loans. I might also be better at it than most men." she challenged.

Arthur sighed and sat up in bed.

"Mrs. Brandon, you are very good at managing the house budget. When you're not giving away cash to the poor flower sellers that is." he added. "But a lady's place in in the home.

"A lady's_ place_," Ariadne seethed. "Is where ever she wants it!"

Her husband glared at her.

"What about school teachers and nurses?" she asked feeling a heated argument coming on and lacking the words to fight and win this battle.

"They are old maids." Arthur laughed. You're a married woman with a home to take care of. One, that..." he looked at his hands again. Not wanting to meet her in the eyes. "That might have children someday."

"A baby?" she said in horror. Her blood flushing ice cold at the idea.

"I think a child might bring us closer." he whispered. His arms trying to pull her to him.

She shifted away.

"I don't want to have a child, Arthur." she told him.

He gave her a confused look.

"All women want to be a mother." he said simply.

"I don't. And Mary says I don't have to if I don't want to." she informed him casually.

"Well, your husband wants children. Your husband has the right to carry on his legacy." Arthur said sharply.

"There is no reason to have a baby of our own when there are starving children right outside our door. Selling flowers with no shoes on!" she argued.

"Ariadne, I have the right to my own child. You won't deny me that." her husband told her.

She refused to look at him as she threw off the bedding and marched, naked, back to the pile of clothing they had pulled off just a short time ago.

"Ariadne." Arthur said harshly as she slipped her night dress back on and winced at the slight pain in her pelvis from their rough union. Her bottom still hurt and she knew it would give her trouble is she tried to sit down.

"Mrs. Brandon!" Arthur said more sternly as she plucked up her robe and started to leave him.

"Don't call for me in the morning and don't ask after me either." she said looking back at him angrily. Hoping the tears that sprang to her eyes wouldn't show.

"Ariadne, don't you-" he tried to say before she slammed the door shut and quickly walked back to her room.

She had to wince again at the discomfort in her body from the furious carnality they had put each other through. She was always a slender woman, but not fit or ready made for such abuse.

She didn't expect Arthur to come storming after her. Her husband wasn't that kind of man.

~ She tried to shake off the anger she felt at him just now. How dare he just make demands on her like this? How dare he just assume what was best for her, assume he knew what she wanted. A baby? A baby with all it's fussing and crying all hours of the night? Not to mention she would be in confinement for months on end. No, it wasn't going to happen. She was too young to be a mother. She had too many things she wanted to do with her life. Being confined to home with a pack of horrid children to attend to, was unthinkable.

She locked her bedroom door behind her and striped off her robe and night gown. Her bedroom was much more cozy than Arthur's and she easily shook off the chill in the air. In fact, her skin felt delightful at being totally naked in her bedroom.

It was a thing she never did out of fear some maid would enter and see her. Or that she would catch her own reflection in the mirror and see herself naked.

Now, she walked to the little bathroom with the big claw foot tub, clumsily let the hot water valve open and steaming, clear water burst from the pipes.

She wanted to take a bath. Wanted to soak in the hot, perfumes waters till she grew sleepy and forgot about Arthur.

She was unsure about how to work the knobs of the hot and cold water. The bath was too hot for her taste and she used too much of the lavender bath salts, but it was effective enough.

When the hot waters touched her abused rear end, she gasped sharply and had to lower herself very slowly.

She didn't want to think about what he had done. Didn't like the idea of herself naked in his bedroom as he spanked her. Of how he had made her...

She shook her head at the thought of his member in her mouth. She dunked her whole body into the scalding water, wetting her face and hair.

She made sure to gargle a great deal of the bath water to rid her memory of the taste of him.

She lost track of time in the bath. Her body healing and her mind relaxing as the water started to cool off.

She nimbly stepped out, fastening a towel around her body and started the long, difficult task of combing through the snarls in her hair.

Her dark tresses went well past her hips and she had always kept it very long, even as a child. It required constant care and attention that she had grown tired of on may occasions. But her hair was apart of her and she couldn't imagine herself any other way.

She looked back at her reflection. Her skin, raw and red from the hot bath water, looked back at her. Her face, free of the false smile she normally put on. Free of the light dusting powder she used when going out.

This was her in her raw form, and she couldn't seem to look away from this stranger.

As if in a trance, she went to her embroidery box. The tiny, crane shaped scissors were not correct for this job, but she didn't care. She wanted to change. She could't stand another second looking the way she did.

She pulled long each tendril of her dark hair and sniped it. Letting the helpless, innocent lock of hair fall to the bathroom floor.

She pulled and sniped, pulled and snipped till half of her prized hair was gone.

She fearlessly marched onward, cutting uneven and not caring in the slightest about the end result.

She felt lighter somehow. Free to be who she was.

Finally, there was no more long hair to cut. She had been merciless in cutting her own crown and glory. What was left on her head looked hacked off and thinner than normal. It rested in uneven layers just barely touching her shoulders.

She was brave, but not brave enough to cut it any shorter.

She looked back at the woman in the mirror. That person finally looked like her. Finally looked like someone Ariadne wanted to be.

She let out a pent up sigh, and smiled in relief.


	9. Chapter 9

9.

~ When she opened her eyes again, she had no memory of what she had done last night. The arrest, her husband picking her up, their fight, the spanking, their bodies so contentedly curled together like a pair of sleeping cats.

She had no memory of cutting her hair off either. For one blissful second, she was able to look out her window, and enjoy the sun streaming down on her.

'_Something's wrong._' she thought suddenly and slowly sat up.

She felt different. Her body was sore. Like she had done some kind of strenuous activity. Her head felt different to.

She ran her hands through her hair. A vain attempt to fix it and realized there was much less of it than before.

Her heart started to pound in her chest as the memory flooded back to her. Cutting her hair, Arthur wanting a baby, their night together, her arrest.

She looked worriedly at the bathroom. Mrs. Marsh had not been in yet. No doubt, her husband, proud of his conquest, had told her Ariadne would be indisposed much of the morning.

She winced at the soreness in her bottom as she climbed out of bed and trotted to the bathroom.

There, on the floor, her cast off hair sat. Unloved and no longer cared for.

What had she done? She looked quickly at herself in the mirror and tried not to cry. Her hair, once so sleek and the admiration of many, was thin and ragged looking.

"Oh, no." she breathed and tried to combat the mess. Tried to find enough of her hair to pin back in a respectable way. But, errant strands kept popping out. She hadn't combed or oiled the hair she had left last night and now her locks were dry and had a cowlick she couldn't smooth out.

She quickly picked up her fallen locks from the floor. They looked like broken toys a selfish child no longer had time for.

Carefully, she tried to bundle them together so that they looked like themselves again. She tried them together and hid it in her bottom dresser drawer.

What could she do? Arthur would be furious. He love her hair more that anything about her. His fingers were always touching it. Wanting to curl it between his thumb and index finger. It was the one time Ariadne liked being touched by her husband.

"Mrs. Marsh!" she called after an hour of panic had made her reach out for help.

She heard the older woman come climbing up the steps to her bedroom.

"Mr. Brandon said you would be indisposed this morning, child. But I had no idea you would sleep past noon." she said as she arrived, out of breath on the landing.

"Mrs. Marsh, is Mr. Brandon at home?" she asked.

"It's Saturday, he goes to the gentleman's club today. He won't be back till five. He also said he want's you dressed because he wanted to go out tonight.

"Mrs. Marsh." Ariadne said as she hid behind her door so the old widow couldn't see her.

"What is it, child? DId he hurt you?" Mrs. Marsh asked. The maid stepping forward trying to open the door.

"No, no he didn't." Ariadne said quickly. "Only, I've made a mistake."

She opened the door and reveled her marred appearance.

"Oh, child!" Mrs. Mils sighed.

~ "My daughter, God rest her, did something like this when she was about twelve." Mrs. Marsh explained as with expert hands, she mended and contrived Ariadne's broken, cast off hair into a hair piece.

"She did?" Ariadne asked as she had to admire the older woman's handy work. Mrs. Marsh had washed her hair and pinned it back to that the casual observer would think it was just a normal up-do. The false 'wig' so to speak, would sit at the base of Ariadne's skull and was braided to look more matronly and out of fashion than she was used to.

"Oh yes, bought some kind of hair treatment from a gypsy and burned it right off. Poor child had to wear a cap for over a year till it started to grow back." Mrs. Marsh explained.

"You never said you had a child before." Ariadne said sadly. She suddenly felt bad that she had never known this about the old woman who lived in her home.

"It was a long time ago. Gemma died one night when she was sixteen. Some kind of fever that took hold of her. One day she was fine as sunshine, the next she was gone." Mrs. Marsh explained as she fitted the newly constructed hair piece onto Ariadne's remaining tresses; setting it with countless pins.

Ariadne breathed a sigh of relief as she looked somewhat like her normal self.

"I'm sorry about Gemma." Ariadne said at last.

"No matter." Mrs. Marsh said. "We need to get you ready for Mr. Brandon. He had roses sent to you this morning you know." she said. "Chocolates to I think from the package."

"I don't want them." Ariadne said bitterly.

"Don't want chocolates?" Mrs. Marsh laughed. "They're good for married women."

"I don't want them, and I don't want to see the roses either." Ariadne said stubbornly. "And, when Mr. Brandon arrives home, I won't be here. You can tell him I'm going out to my ladies meeting."

"Now, Mrs. Brandon!" Mrs. Marsh exclaimed.

"If he can have his gentleman's club, if he has the right to meet with stuffy old men who control the world, then I have the right too meet with ladies who want to change all that." Ariadne said as she started to dress.

She pulled on her slip and sensible blouse and skirt.

"Now, Mr. Brandon says you're not allowed to go to those ladies meetings anymore." Mrs. Marsh said. "I'm to keep you at home."

"He told you?" Ariadne said feeling a sense of betrayal.

"Yes, he did. And I agree with him. You've been all out of sorts lately and running with a bad crowd. There are plenty of nice clubs and committees you can join. Why, during the war, I was in a number of sewing circles and we had a grand time." Mrs. Marsh went on. "Then, when I got married and had my Gemma, there were not enough hours in the day between taking care of her and Mr. Marsh. The devil finds work for idle hands and the devil has found you, child. I think you'll feel much more pleased with yourself once you've done your duty to your husband and given him a child."

Ariadne looked bitterly back at the older woman.

"Mrs. Marsh, you're entirely right. The devil finds use for idle hands. With that in mind, I want you to polish the silver and brush down all of Mr. Brandon's suits. Even the ones in storage could use an airing. That should keep you busy so you won't feel the need to mettle in the affairs of those above your station." she said in her mother's voice.

Mrs. Marsh's face fell and Ariadne threw on her coat. It was too warm to wear it. The winter chill was still to come. But the sun kept the cold at bay for now.

As she left the house, she felt a little bad about what she had said to Mrs. Marsh. She was a nice enough woman from a softer generation. She was raised ignorant that women should want or need anything beyond a husband, home and family of their own.

Was it wrong for Ariadne to want more? Why couldn't she just be content with what she had?

She had a lot to be grateful for. She knew that. She had a nice home with a live in servant. Her husband was kind to her and never talked down to her or hit her. The only exception was what happened last night and she didn't categorize that under abuse. It had been...

She shook her head as she hailed a cab. She wasn't sure what it had been, but proper ladies didn't think about it. Sexual relations was something to be endured and good girls, didn't enjoy it.

She climbed into the horse drawn carriage and told the driver the address. Arthur had always ensured she had enough pocket money if she wanted a new dress or wanted to go out with friends. He was very good about slipping cash into her pocket book. He was always saying the worst thing in the world was to be a woman without means.

She had to laugh at the two things being double negatives. A man without means could change his station. But a woman without means and no husband, maybe with hungry children to feed. That truly was the worst thing in the world.

She was thinking of the little girl selling flowers in her bare feet when the driver stopped at Mary's home.

Ariadne got out and paid the cabbie. Mary lived in a middle class neighborhood with nice homes and clean, well cared for children running about and playing. It was only the middle class women who could afford to protest for the vote. Upper class women didn't want to compromise their station, and working class and poor women had too many jobs to do, and too many mouths to feed to spend their Saturdays at meetings like this.

Mary must have seen her coming and opened the door.

"Ariadne, why it's late in the day. How are you?" the leader of the group asked.

"I'm fine, Mary." Ariadne said gratefully as she was welcomed into the woman's home.

In the front parlor, several other women were there. Sitting on improvised seats as Mary had been giving a speech of some kind.

"Was Arthur very upset with you? Are you alright?" Mary asked.

"I'm fine." Ariadne said and her hands went to her hair and made sure the hair piece was still in place. "What's going on?"

"We are going to vote on Friday." Mary said as Ariadne took an uncomfortable seat next to Sybil Yeats.

"What?" she asked.

"We've come up with a plan. The lot of us are going to the court house and vote on Friday." Mary explained.

"Another protest?" Ariadne asked.

"Not at all." Another woman laughed. "That's the brilliance of it."

"Yes." Mary said happily. "Mrs. Brandon, does your husband have any suits he won't miss?"


	10. Chapter 10

10.

~ Ariadne didn't feel like taking a cab home again. She wanted the long walk that would give her time to think.

Normally, her ladies meeting invigorated her. Made her feel stronger and more in control of a life that she always felt just a minor player in. But listening to their plan for voting today, she felt it was more of desperation than anything else.

Mary planned to take men's suits and hem them accordingly. They would pin back their hair in men's hats and even put on fake facial hair from the dime store. To register, they planed to give the name, birth date and address of a man who had passed away in the last year Sybil Yates had found in the courthouse. They would also vote out of county so as not to arouse suspicion.

It was a good plan, all the ladies decided happily. It sent a message to the men that they could vote, but Ariadne had her doubts.

If they would be found out, they would certainly be arrested, it might be a federal crime. Arthur couldn't bail her out this time and he might be so disgusted with her, so sure she had gone insane, he might lock her up in some kind of asylum.

Her father had always threatened to have her committed for her radical talk. He insisted that her ideas weren't normal and that something was wrong with her to make her so rebellious when any normal girl was panning weddings and parties and having a family.

She also didn't want Arthur to be angry at her anymore. She felt deep down inside that she was unreasonable at times where he was concerned. That she should be happy to be married to a man who was as kind and thoughtful as Arthur was. A man who sent her flowers and chocolate. Who looked at her so adoringly at times, she felt her legs shake at the wonder of his enchantment.

She ran her hands over her cut off hair and felt the errant strands pop free. Her hair. How would she explain that misstep to Arthur? He would be livid when he saw that her long, beautiful locks were gone.

She couldn't think about it now. Arthur might not notice for a while if she kept it up in the clever pin Mrs. Marsh contrived.

She was hardly paying attention to where she was walking, her thoughts so heavy on the ladies plans, her husband, her hair, she was almost struck by a cabbie. The large bay even standing on it's hind legs and exclaiming at her as it reared up in alarm.

"Watch it!" the cabbie shouted at her in a heavy accent as he tried to control the beast.

Ariadne attempted to side step the great animal as it's sharp hoofs threaten to come down on her.

"Careful, miss." came a voice and strong hands pulled her to safety off the street.

Ariadne almost tripped on the curb as her eyes were transfixed on the large horse with his rearing that could have ended her. She tripped and fell into a warm body as hands and arms easily caught her and helped her stand back up.

"You're alright." he was saying as she watched the horse go back on all fours and trot angrily away.

"Thank you." she said numbly as, if in a daze, she started walking down the street again.

"Miss?" the voice was saying and she felt a warm, stable hand find hers again.

She turned and saw a man, working class by the looks of his clothing, peering worriedly at her.

When he spoke again, his accent was English.

"Are you alright? You seem a bit off." he said.

"I'm fine. I just... I think I took a wrong turn." she sighed and looked at the apartment buildings that were new, but built closer together than she would have cared for.

"I can see that. Where are you lost from?" he asked then chuckled. A boyish delight taking over his handsome face. "Or, it might be better to ask where you're lost to?"

"I was walking home." she said with difficulty as a gang of children ran past them. The boys were dirty, pitiful things who resembled a pack of dogs more than humans.

'_I don't want a child like that._' Ariadne thought.

"We'll, by the look of you, you don't look like you'll find home in this neighborhood." the man said. "Do you need a cab?"

Ariadne stopped and took a good look at him.

He was handsome enough. His face was soft and had a smile that was itching to come out. At the same time, he looked thoughtful and intelligent. It was an interesting combination on a man barely out of his twenties.

"Sir, I can walk home from here." she said and turned away.

"Do you even know where here is?" he asked.

She stopped and looked around the streets. She didn't recognize the look of any of them.

"See, the city has torn down a lot of the old country homes and building new everything. Too many immigrants." he laughed. "We're getting them from all over these days with the railroads being built out west and all."

She felt a sense of panic chill her blood.

"Where..." she whispered.

"I can take you home." he offered as she tired to gain her bearings and failed. The man was right, the buildings had all changed and she wasn't sure where she was now.

"I'll just hail a cabbie." she said and refused to look at him.

"Well that's me." he said as she walked to an unattended yellow carriage. A docile brown mare with blinders was waiting and no driver was in the seat.

"I mean, that's me." he pointed at the horse.

She finally looked back at him and he explained.

"My job, I'm a cabbie. This is Mary Bell. The sweetest lady I've ever known." he pointed to the horse.

"Oh." she said uncomfortably. "Well, you might be lying and a kidnapper."

He nodded and reached into the driver's glove box. He pulled out a city issued license with an out of focus photograph that all cab drivers have to have.

"Got my license last year. Handsome devil, aren't I?" he asked and she read the name.

"Mr. Eames, is it?" she asked and handed him the license back.

"That's right." he said with that roguish smile.

"Well, then that's fine." she said and waited for him to open the passenger side of the cab. Mr. Eames tipped his hat and obliged. Even helping her inside the way a properly trained driver would do.

"Did you work as a cabbie before coming to America?" she asked him as he climbed up to the driver seat and guided Mary Bell into a trot.

"Yes, I've worked all over." he said as the animal made a turn. "Fresh off the boat one week and jobs are growing on trees in this city. I didn't like factory work, and this is always more fun."

"Don't you worry about crazy people?" she asked and leaned close to the drivers partition. "They might rob you?"

He only laughed.

"I can handle myself." he said. "Do you want to tell me where home is?"

She gave him her address and watched the newly built apartments and the hordes of new immigrants rush past.

"We get them everyday now." Eames was saying. "Mostly Irish now. They come for the work."

"Why did you come?" she asked. "It couldn't have been easy to start a new life."

"It's not." he agreed. "But after my wife died, I saw no reason to stay. I had a little money from her life insurance and made the crossing. I was able to rent a room and find a job the day I got off the boat. Not everyone is so lucky."

It was a pleasant ride to her well to do neighborhood. Mr. Eames was smart and chatty about the city and how his land lady was in love with him.

"Poor old girl." he laughed and Ariadne had to giggle at the story of the love sick woman trying to catch Mr. Eames in the bath on Saturday nights.

"Is this you?" he asked and nodded up at Ariadne's fine brownstone.

"Yes." she said and paid him.

"Thank you, Miss?" he asked.

"Mrs. Brandon." she said sadly. Remembering her husband would be home by now and upset she had gone out.

"I figured." Eames said softly. Although the smile didn't leave his lips. "A lady like you, course you have a husband to go home to."

She looked back at Mr. Eames and suddenly didn't want to leave the cab. He looked her in the eye and she felt a giddy rush fill her when their eyes met.

"Well, it was nice meeting you." she said at last.

"If you're in need of a good cabbie, just send one of the kids to Fisherman's house. Everyone knows where that is. Tell them to ask for Mr. Eames." he said.

"Very well." she smiled.

She exited out of the cab and hoped neatly down. She thought it best not to give Mr. Eames or Mary Bell a look back and was a little sad to hear the horses hooves trotting away.

~ Arthur was waiting for her in the front room, a heavy book he had been reading on his lap.

"Where were you?" he asked as she stepped in from the chill. His long legs were crossed and his body looked relaxed enough enough. His face, however, made it clear he was angry.

"I was at my ladies meetings." she said casually as she pulled off her coat and hung it up.

"I thought we agreed you would not be engaging in that activity." he said and stood.

"We didn't agree on anything, dear." she said with a false sweetness. "You told me what I was to do and-"

"And you do it!" he barked. "I'm you're husband. I make the rules that govern this house!"

"Don't yell at me!" she shouted back. "I'm not a slave you can just order about!"

"I wanted to take you out to dinner tonight. To apologize for what..." he looked worriedly at the dinning room door. Hoping Mrs. Marsh wasn't eavesdropping. "For last night. I come home to find my wife has gone. Off to meet with the same people who have caused this house so much trouble."

"Why on earth would you apologize for last night?" she teased ruthlessly. "Weren't you just doing your duty as a man?"

"Ariadne." he breathed and shook his head. "I don't want to be that kind of a husband."

She refused to look at him.

"I don't want you to go back to those meetings." he said as she looked at the pale pink roses he had sent her that morning. Mrs. Marsh had put them in a vase and in the front window. They were lovely and in full bloom. Their heads big and heavy for so late in the year.

She also saw the large box of finely wrapped chocolate he had sent over.

"What happened last night, I... I don't know what came over me." he was explaining. "I was just so angry, and you refused to listen."

She heard him breath a deep sigh as she looked over the roses. Her fingers touching the delicate petals.

"Are you that unhappy? Being my wife?" he asked at last. His voice full of suffering.

She looked back at him.

"I'm not unhappy." she said in a soft, broken voice. "I'm just..." she couldn't find the right words.

"I'm incomplete." she said at last.

He shook his head and stood next to her.

"I think a child might help you. A doctor friend of mines says that having a child will help you relax more. That it's you're body's destiny and you'll feel better once a baby comes along." he said. His hands going to her hair.

"Arthur." she sighed. And moved away from him.

"Ariadne, there is nothing I won't do for you. But this foolishness has to stop." he said. "No more meetings and we're going to seriously work on our family."

His voice was stern and authoritative.

She glared back at him.

"So I'm to be breeding stock in a pretty dress, is that it?" she asked. Repeating Mary's speech.

"Breeding stock? How does having a child with your husband make you breeding stock?" he asked. His face pulling into a scowl.

She stuck her chin out at him. Her hands going to the myriad of pins that held her false hair piece in place.

"I won't be told what I can and can't do." she said as he watched her take out pin after pin. "I'm a grown woman who can make her own choices in life. If I'm not ready to be a mother, then I won't have a baby. If I want to see my friends, I will. I'm your wife, but not by choice, sir. I don't love you and I never will."

She had placed all the pins on the table next to the flowers and finally pulled free her hair piece.

Arthur's face fell as she shook out her shorter hair and looked at him with defiance.

"Go upstairs to my room." he whispered. His face that stony look again of bare restrained anger.

"NOW!" he barked.


	11. Chapter 11

11.

~ '_I can do this_.' Ariadne thought to herself as she rooted her feet to the floor.

"No." she said with a shaky breath.

Arthur looked taken aback. His face slightly puzzled by her refusal to do what she was told.

"Go upstairs to my room." he said an a cold, detached way.

"You said you were sorry about what happened last night." she said; her voice trembling. "You said you didn't want to be the kind of husband who... who did those things to his wife."

Arthur was walking to her. His eyes locked onto hers and making her body freeze, too afraid to move.

"You... you said you were sorry about... about spanking me... and... and..." she swallowed hard and looked up at him.

"Dear, I wasn't sorry about using the strap on you. You deserved it. I wanted to apologize about what I said to you afterward. About how you weren't as smart as men. I think you're very smart and I wanted to say I was sorry about making you feel otherwise." he said in a husky whisper.

She tried to step away from him, but her feet wouldn't move. He was too close right now. His breath was warm and sweet from the honey Mrs. Marsh used in his evening tea. The comforting smell of his aftershave still clung to his clothing and she had to fight the urge to hide her face in his chest and cry.

"Arthur." she said in a strained voice.

"Go upstairs to my room." he ordered solemnly.

"No." she whispered back as she hoped, he would take pity on her.

He took her hand in his. The feel of his large, firm hand in hers made her breath come harder. His palm and fingers so strong and gentle all at once.

"Arthur." she pleaded as the memories from last night came back to her.

"You disobeyed me today. Not only did you go back to the ladies meeting after I forbid you, but you cut off your hair." he said as he lead her upstairs. Her body forced to comply as he held fast to her hand.

She had become like a child resisting punishment as his strong body moved her up to his bedroom.

She knew she couldn't physically combat him.

"Arthur, I'm sorry about my hair. I'll wear the hair piece. No one will know." she said as he pulled her into his bedroom and shut the door behind them.

"I'll know." he said roughly.

"Last night, when I did it, I was upset by what you said." she explained as she backed away from him and stood by the fire again.

"Well, now _I'm_ upset." he said and shrugged off his jacket. Once more hanging it in his wardrobe and finding the leather strap.

"No! You will not hit me with that again!" she said defensively.

"Take off your dress, Mrs. Brandon." he said. Ignoring her protest.

She felt her lower lip tremble at the sight of the leather strap. Memories, warm and welcomed rushed back to her and made her body prickle. As if she had just woken up for a long sleep.

Her hands went to the collar of her dress and she started to unfasten the top buttons. She normally needed Mrs. Marsh's help to get out of her heavy, cumbersome clothing. Especially the layered on winter clothes. The buttons in the back were especially difficult and she had to try her best to reach for them, when Arthur's hands were over hers.

"Let me." he said soothingly. His large hands loosening her dress as he carefully undid each button and she felt her heart beat faster. His voice had been kind and gentle, and she felt, for just that moment, he was her husband again.

"I really am, sorry about my hair." she whispered as she looked back at him.

He only nodded. His hand loosening her dress enough for her to slip out of it.

She stepped out of her winter dress and left it pooled on the floor.

"Corset?" she heard him smirk as he wrapped his hands around her waist. His fingers tripping over the unforgiving underclothes that synched her body into shape, and kept him from her skin.

"It wasn't my idea." she laughed nervously as she pulled her much shorter hair over her shoulder and Arthur began working on the lacings that would free her.

He pulled the silk cord of her corset out of the holes one at a time. Ariadne having to bite her lip to keep from telling him he only had to loosen the stays that kept her tightly restrained.

She liked the agonizing slowness of him undressing her.

"I've never seen you in a corset before." he whispered in her ear and she shivered. "I've only ever see you in your night dress when were together. Never in your underthings."

"You like for me to wear them?" she said softly and had to remember to breath.

"Yes. You feel more... forbidden this way." he whispered.

"Then I'll stop wearing them. I'll start wearing men's clothes." she threatened.

"Always so defiant." he said in a husky voice. "I think you like be a contrary."

"One of the joys of women, is that we are as contrary as we chose to be." she told him.

"That is one of the joys of women." he agreed slowly. "Not my personal favorite, if you must know. Tell me, why must you go against everything I say or want?"

"Qui tacet consentire" she said remembering her latin.

"Silence, gives consent?" he said in a mocking tone.

"If we keep silent, things will never change and those in power will assume we agree with their laws." she told him as he roughly started pulling free her stays.

She took a deep breath as her corset loosened and her breasts were no longer restrained.

"To keep silent while an injustice occurs, makes you just as guilty as those who committed the injustice." she said as his hands roamed under the corset.

"I see." he said in her ear. "Tell me, my dear Mrs. Brandon, what injustice do you face? Are you forced to live in poverty? Were you even forced to marry me? Am I the brute you think all men are?"

She felt his hands roll up her under dress and find her breasts. His thumb and forefinger plucking her nipple. She felt herself tremble slightly at the rush, like fire, go off in her body.

"We..." she panted and stood on tip toe and arched her back. Allowing him to fully cup both her breasts.

"We both know what my options were." she managed to say before her legs started to shake too much.

"Stand up strait, Mrs. Brandon." he growled and moved away from her.

She felt a little afraid of the hate that was in Arthur's voice just now. She looked back at him as her coset, far too lose now, slipped to the floor.

Ariadne stepped out the binding garment and, without being told, pulled down her panties as well. She still had on her dress gown. A gauzy, thin piece of clothing that would often act as her night dress. She striped that off as well and stood fully exposed as he walked around her. His hands lightly touching her belly as he looked over her naked body in the fire light.

Arthur seemed unimpressed. His face returning to that scowl that always meant trouble.

"It's alright that you don't love me." he sighed and met her eyes. She opened her mouth to argue this, but shut it again just as quickly. She didn't want to lie as say she did love him.

She wasn't sure how she felt about Arthur sometimes. She wasn't sure how she felt about herself most days. How could she love anyone else when she was a ghost half the time?

"We can work on that, Ariadne." he said softly as the leather strap came into view again. Arthur looked at it for a long time and Ariadne started shaking.

"It's alright." he said softly. "Go lay down on the bed."


	12. Chapter 12

12.

She refused to look at him as butterflies took flight in her belly in excitement. Why did this make her so happy? Was this normal? Good girls didn't do things like this.

She tried to hide the giddy rush of elation and fear she was feeling as she walked gracefully to his bed and sat on the very edge.

"Lay down on you're belly." he ordered.

She took a deep breath and did as she was told. The bedding was scratchy on her delicate, unclothed skin. Another thing that was so forbidden and wonderful.

"Were you sore this morning?" Arthur asked as his warm hand started to rub over her bottom.

"Yes." she whispered and swallowed hard.

"Good." he breathed in relief.

She shifted as an electric current went from her bottom to that strange enigma between her legs. Her womanhood seeming to awaken at his touch and insinuation that he had enjoyed her being sore the next morning.

"I wouldn't want to hurt you." he was saying as his hand gave her bottom a firm and quick smack.

She buried her face in one of his pillows to keep from squealing and hide a smile.

"So, it's important you tell me if it becomes too uncomfortable." he said.

"You're about to brutalize me with a leather strap. That might be uncomfortable." she said heatedly.

She jumped at Arthur slapped her other check and then the first one in rapid succession she wasn't ready for.

"Be quite." he said without raising his voice. "It may be brutal, but I think it's all you understand, Mrs. Brandon."

"I... I understand..." she breathed as a sweet, gentle release found her. She wanted more. She didn't know how to tell him she liked what he just did. Couldn't seem to stop her hips and bottom from wiggling slightly.

His hands roaming over her injured flesh and rubbing away the stings.

"Just get on with it." she challenged as a means to taunt him.

"Don't tell me what to do." he said in his icy tone that heated Ariadne's blood.

She gasped in surprise as the leather strap hit her unprotected, flesh. The stinging pain was sharper than she remembered or was ready for, and she quickly covered her back side with both hands to prevent further abuse.

"That hurt." she whimpered.

"I know it did." Arthur's voice whispered back in a gentle tone. His hands were moving her's off her bottom so he could strike again. "Count with me." he ordered as she grasped the bedding and tried to breath normally.

His blows were not as kind as last night. Maybe her bottom was already too sore from the previous evening, but it seemed as though her husband's spanking's stung more, and he struck her with more force than he did before.

"Arthur!" she cried out as he punished her with a rapid swatting with the leather strap.

She tried to sit up, but his hand was holding her down by the shoulders.

"Five!" she cried out as he made her keep track of her punishing blows.

"Good." he breathed. "Almost there."

A more gentle swat to her bottom sent a comforting ripple to her blood and made her body rouse curiously.

"Six." she whimpered.

He hit her again, and his palm was there, warm and wonderful to sooth the pain away.

"Seven." she said and tried to get her voice back to normal.

He spanked her then in a pleasing rhythm. As though he was making love to her with the leather strap. The contact made her body jump and move as though they were in the throws of passion, rather than this humiliating punishment.

She had lost count and simply enjoyed the beauty of his beating her.

She opened her eyes at the sudden arrest of his spanking. Her body screaming for more. Her blood ready to burst into flames if she wasn't satisfied soon.

"Roll over." he ordered in a harsh voice she was only used to hearing from him when she knew him to be swollen with lust for her.

She did as commanded. Her mind enjoying being ordered around when she was naked like this.

She saw her husband was starting to undress himself as she lay in bed. Naked and helpless before him. Her body, without any protection as she knew he would climb on top of her and ravish her like some kind of beast.

Instinctively, like they were playing some kind of game in which, they both knew their lines and roles, she backed away from him.

"I should go back to my room." she whispered as her eyes fell on the impressive member her husband was pumping with his free hands.

"I don't think so, dear." he said in a horse voice.

"Mr. Brandon." she pleaded as her hands went between her legs.

It was like she couldn't help it, her body needed to be touched just now. Needed the feel of contact. Her sex was electric and bit angrily at her at the touch of her own fingers.

Her husband paused his own undressing to watch her rub herself for a moment. The fascination written clearly on his face.

Somehow, she had struck a place of intense pleasure on her own sex and whimpered slightly. Her fragile body going ridged for a second.

"I can't allow that, Mrs. Brandon." Arthur was saying as his hands, large, rough and wonderful took over hers.

She was nodding, as her husband, naked and lustful, joined her in bed. His body fitting neatly beside hers as his hand tormented her a new.

His thumb was rubbing and his fingers dove into her soft, wet opening. Her breathing coming hard as it welcomed the invasion. The feel of another's flesh on her most secretive place, claiming it as his own, made her shudder with excitement.

He was kissing her and she could scarcely register the feel of his lips on her neck as he made a trail of wet kisses down to her breasts. His lips starting to suckle as she rode and bucked on his fingers.

She felt she was too hot. Her skin boiling alive as his lips and teeth tugged at her erect nipples.

"I'm hot!" she cried out.

"Ariadne." he groaned as his hand left the wetness he was forcing to life and made her spread her legs wider.

"Arthur! I'm too hot!" she cried. Her skin felt like it was on fire and she couldn't take the heat anymore.

She felt his member enter her with one unforgiving thrust.

She was so wet, so ready and wanting of him, she barely understood what had happened till his heavy body was over hers. His pelvis thrusting into her as if it were a new kind of punishment.

"I'm too hot." she whimpered. Her skin couldn't stand the heat of her on desire and her husband on top of her.

She enjoyed the feel of him inside her. She sensed at one point he had pulled away from her and rode her like he would ride a horse. Her breasts free to move with each jerk of his body.

She wanted more. Didn't want him to ever stop. She could feel every inch of his manhood drive itself into her. Her body too hot and aroused to care if he hurt her at all. All she could think of, was that it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

She felt him collapse next to her too soon. Her body still alive and hungry for more.

"Arthur?" she mewed as she curled next to her husband. His breathing labored and his skin sweaty.

"Ariadne..." he panted as she was kissing his neck. Her sex ready for him again. Like an animal, it didn't know the meaning of the word no.

"I want more." she whispered to him.

He was still breathing hard as he rolled over. His hands going to her sore bottom, still in pain from her spanking, and cupped both cheeks.

"We don't always get what we want. Do we?" he whispered and kissed her nose as if she were as spoiled child who didn't get the toy or candy she wanted.

As if possessed, she raised her hand to hit him. How dare he not give her what she wanted! She needed more of him and he had refused her! Didn't he understand how much she need the satisfaction?

Arthur, unfazed by her attempted assault, simply caught hold of her wrist with his strong and sure hands. She tried to free herself from his steady grasp, but his hand was laced over her wrist like a cuff and he easily held her in place.

"Let me go!" she demanded as she tried to hit him with her free hand. Her evil husband catching that wrist to and halting her attempts to strike back.

"Behave yourself, Mrs. Brandon." he said soothingly as he rolled over on top of her again.

Her hips bucked up against him. Her sex excited once more to have him so close again. Her own lust in desperate need of him just now.

"Arthur, please." she whispered as he looked her over with cool, tormenting eyes. As if he knew he was hurting her, and liked what he saw.

"Please what?" he asked innocently as her hips and legs tried to take hold of him and pull him close to her again.

She was too embarrassed, too shy, to ask for it again.

"Tell me." Arthur demanded as she bit her lip and refused to say a word.

She shook her head and glared at him.

"Tell me what you want, or you'll go back to your room." he threatened.

She didn't want to go back to her empty bed. Her body was screaming for the warm feel of his skin on hers again. She wanted him on top of her. Wanted to be brutally impaled again and again. She wanted those hands of his on her again.

"I want..." she whispered and he waited for her to go on. Her wrists still held down as he started to kiss her neck.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I want it... I want you to... to do it again." she said shyly and she could feel him smile as he kissed her breasts.


	13. Chapter 13

13.

~ Ariadne woke up to the bright light of mid day.

She had slept heavily and no dreams or cares tormented her. She longed to go back to sleep, her body was so exhausted and worn out, but the pattern of her bed sheets caught her eye and she looked at them for a long time.

'_I'm not in my room._' she thought lazily as she rolled over and had to wince in pain.

The soreness was back in her body. Her legs feeling like she had run for miles and even her arms hurt her.

She was hungry and thirsty as well, but lacked the energy to rouse herself out of the warm nest of bed covers and forage for food.

'_I'm in Arthur's bed_.' she thought numbly as she looked out at the window. Her naked body still curled comfortably in the sheets.

'_I spent the night in Arthur's bed_.' she thought.

She remembered every disgraceful detail. Arthur becoming angry with her for going to the meetings. Arthur becoming enraged she had cut her hair.

'My hair.' she thought mournfully as her hands laced the short locks that stuck out now.

She covered her face with the sheet in embarrassment. She had been intimate with him again last night. She wasn't sure what had possessed her. She was like another person who needed to have his affections.

Their first encounter that night had been carnal and full of unrestrained passion. Her body had felt so hot, she was sure it was some kind of fever.

Then, to make matters worse, she had demanded he do it again. Her evil husband tormenting her till he finally gave into what she wanted.

Their second tome had been much more agreeable. Arthur had used his hips and body well and his lips hardly left hers as they stayed joined.

She had like it better than any other time with him. It was slow and easy, comfortable even. Her womanhood blooming wildly at the right time and sending her into gasping moans as she held her husband closer to her.

Ariadne tensed as she heard a door open and hard soled shoes walk across the floor.

She was still hidden under the blankets and foolishly hoped she could not be seen.

"I would wish you good morning, Mrs. Brandon, but you've seem to have slept right past that." Arthur said and she felt the bed sag as he sat down on the edge.

Ariadne peeked out of the sheet at him. He was dressed in his Sunday full on suit and looked his normal, well polished self.

"Why didn't you wake me?" she said and tired to sit up. The soreness in her legs crying out and she tried not to show her discomfort.

"I thought you needed the rest." he said simply. "Are you alright?" he asked. His voice touchingly concerned.

"Fine." she tried to say with a careless shrug as she held the bedding over her body.

"I didn't hurt you last night, did I?" he asked. His face, worried as his hands went to her shorter locks of dark hair.

She smiled back at him. A real smile now and not just the mask she wore.

"No, you didn't hurt me." she lied. She didn't want to make him feel badly for their animal like desires taking over. True, she was sore for their lovemaking, and her bottom still hurt from his spanking her, but she knew those things would go away. What mattered now was the way he looked at her.

What mattered now was that there was a comfortable peace between them.

Arthur was looking at her hair again. His eyes roaming up the hacked of parts the Mrs. Marsh couldn't fix.

"It'll grow back." she promised.

"I know." he sighed.

"I'm sorry I did it." she whispered.

He said nothing and then smiled a little.

"It actually looks rather cute on you." he said.

She tried not to grin. her body feeling so good right now, nothing could make her unhappy.

"I don't want to fight anymore." she admitted.

"Neither do I." he agreed. "Let's talk of more pleasant things."

She smiled back at him. Her body wanting to go back to sleep. To curl into the comfortable blankets and sleep till he decided to rouse her.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Starved."

"I'll bring you up a tray." he said and stood. "You should stay in bed today." he added as he walked to the door.

It was only as he was about to leave her that he added:

"You must still be exhausted."

~ Sunday was Mrs. Marsh's day off. The day she went to services with her family and left the couple she took care of to their own devices. Normally, Ariadne tried her unskilled hands at cooking a simple meal. She was brought up in a house full of servants and admittedly didn't know enough about domestic duties other than boil water, but most of the time, they went out to dinner.

"You've already been to services?" she asked when he came back with a tray of toast and milk. Her husband trying hard to cater to his wife and she appreciated the gesture, even if he forgot the butter and jam.

"Yes, the ladies asked where you were and I made your excesses." he explained as she nibbled daintily on the toast. Her husband gathering up her clothing from last night, shaking out the wrinkles, and folding them neatly over an arm chair.

"My excesses?" she asked.

"That you were indisposed." he said and ran his hands in his pockets.

She held the sheet of his bed closer to her body.

"Well, that much is true." she said and tried not to laugh.

She sensed Arthur was teasing her as he pulled one of the high back chairs next to where she was eating in bed, as though she truly was an invalid.

"Last night was very nice." he said. His eyes were looking over her face and hair.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Mr. Brandon." Ariadne said and refused to look at him.

"I think I liked the second time better." he added and she felt her face burn.

"I should get dressed." she said. She was very uncomfortable all of the sudden. Her husband was looking at her in a way that was making those butterflies flutter around her belly again.

"I think it's best if you stay in bed and rest for the remainder of the day. You're very tired." he said.

"Arthur, I'm fine." she said and clutched the sheet tighter to her body. "Please hand me my clothes."

"I don't think so." he chuckled.

"Arthur!" she said in shock.

"Mrs. Brandon, I would like it if you rested for the day and be refreshed this evening." as he stood and took her clothing with him.

"What's going to happen this evening?" she asked.

He only gave her that self amused smile.

"Get some rest, Mrs. Brandon. I left the roses and box of chocolates on the night table for you as well as the book you were reading."

She gaped at him as he left her. His well dressed form striding out of the bedroom, brimming with confidence and good humor.


	14. Chapter 14

14.

~ Ariadne was giddy and restless. Her body flushed hot and happy with a strange current she wasn't used to, but enjoyed never the less. She felt just as wonderful and excited as when she was little and Christmas morning was quickly approaching.

She couldn't be expected to stay in bed for the rest of the day. She was fully awake now and her legs itched to run and jump around the room.

If only Arthur hadn't stolen her clothes.

She thought about her husband as she nibbled the rich chocolates he had delivered to her and felt a warm beam and happiness warm her. She wanted to giggle at the idea of them together. Hide her face behind the blankets again at the memory she had touched his body and he hers.

She didn't want to read her boring novel either. Books that were approved for proper ladies were so dull. They were all about single women when wanted to find a husband. To find true love and how they have to overcome all manner of terrible things to be worthy of some hapless prince or a handsome, brooding gentleman who was conveniently rich.

She had grown up reading these books. Thinking, as silly young girls always do, that these stories were a sort of promise. A road map to a life she would have if she was charming and pretty.

But those books had all deceived her. Although she had attend many parities where she met nice young men, she couldn't seem to take the task seriously. She found the youths of her generation stupid and rude at times. The young men keeping to their own and the girls in gaggle like groups that rarely crossed boarders. If such an occurrence did happen, and a young man talked to a lady, naturally the gossip went the rounds of soon to be weddings.

Ariadne was too shy of a girl to stand that kind of gossip and speculation. So, she rarely made any effort to met the gentleman her parents wanted for her.

This attitude frustrated her father to no end, and he finally brought Arthur into her life as an effort to force her to marry.

By this time Ariadne had started to go to her ladies club meeting and was given the idea that she didn't have to marry or be a mother if she didn't want to be. That she was grown and not a child any longer. She even began having ideas of teaching school and moving out of her parents home. A perfectly scandalous thing, but one she thought about till that fateful dinner.

She had never known Arthur had admired her that first evening. He had seemed so cold and distant. Speaking only to her father, as was only proper.

She wondered about her husband now. Wondered why he had married her. Was it because he cared for her, as he had said? He had always treated her well. With the exception of the past few days, she hadn't a complaint about him.

Was it because he really loved her?

She looked over the pages of her boring book and let out a long, frustrated sigh.

She didn't want to stay in bed, and decided, in the same rush of defiance that made her cut off her hair, she wouldn't.

Once Ariadne got it into her head to do something, it couldn't be done fast enough. She climbed out of bed, the sheets wound tightly to her body as she looked over Arthur's neatly pressed and ready clothing.

Her husband had no casual clothing she could just throw on. He had no tolerance for threadbare shirt that Mrs. Marsh might repair for him either. His clothing was always perfect, well pressed and fitted his slim body nicely.

She ran her hands over the corse fabric of one of his winter suits and the faint hint of his aftershave caught her nose.

She felt that wonderful ripple go through her as she breathed in the smell that clung to the fabric of his suit.

She never realized till now how much she loved the way he smelled. How clean the scent was and how his face was always freshly shaven despite the fashion for mustaches.

She let the sheet drop to the floor and pulled on his neatly starched and pressed dress shirt off the hangers.

She never gave Arthur credit for being so tall till she tried to put on his shirt. His arms were longer than she imagined to. She looked like a child, playing dress up in his shirt as she buttoned up the rich fabric that tickled her delicate skin.

She rolled up the sleeves and looked at herself in the mirror. The hem of Arthur's shirt thankfully covering her bottom where red marks from her spanking were still clear. They had taken a deep, red hue now. Like burn marks that would go away in a few days.

Her body was still sore from last night, but her bottom was going to be a problem if she tried to sit down.

She smoothed down the fabric of his shirt, the way he was so fond of doing, and left the bedroom.

She couldn't have very well have traipsed around the upstarts in nothing but a smile. Even if Mrs. Marsh was out for the day.

She was too modest, too well brought up to even look at her own naked body in the mirror, let alone display it outside the safety of a bedroom.

She knew exactly where to find her husband. His favorite place in the house was in the sitting room. The green leather arm chair by the fire was big and comfortable and he loved to read the paper and look out the window to see delivery people come and go.

It was all he really did on Sunday and there he sat, his long, lean form draped carelessly in his chair.

A cup of black coffee sitting on the side table as he scowled over the business section.

She leaned over the banisher and watched him for a while. Enjoying the sport of spying on him without his knowing.

He always seemed grumpy when he read his paper and never commented on the stocks and trades he was in. Heaven forbid he should discuss with her about money. Talks about money was not the thing to worry ladies about. He gave her an allowance for everyday things. She gave Mrs. Marsh enough ready cash to buy food. The rest, she could use to buy what she needed or wanted.

It was a better arrangement than she had with her father. When she asked him for money for anything, he would look at her with distaste and asked why she needed it, and was she sure she needed it. Or worse yet, he would think about it. Arthur, was drastically different. He didn't question at all why she needed a few dollars in her pocket book. Or why she bought a new book when she had books already. He didn't question why she bought new stockings either.

She appreciated that aspect of her marriage and knew that lately, she hadn't lived up to her end of the bargain by giving him a nice home life to come back to.

"I escaped." she said teasingly from her perch on the stairs.

Arthur looked up from his paper in surprise. His face comically boyish as he looked over her slight body, almost drowning, in his dress shirt.

"I see." he said as he took his mug of coffee and sipped it carefully. "Raiding my closet as well. How very industrious of you."

She smiled as she tip toed lightly to him. It felt wrong to be downstairs in nothing but his dress shirt. She hand no protective under garments on, the floor was cold on her bare feet and she longed to be near the fire.

"I thought I told you to stay in bed." he said as, cat like, she pushed his newspaper aside and curled up on his lap.

Arthur shifted and allowed her body to fit itself comfortably on him. He sat down the paper as she cuddled closer to him. Her head resting on his shoulder, her legs dangling off the side.

"I'm awake." she explained. "And I don't like being told what to do."

"I'm coming to realize that." he said with a chuckle.

"Are you happy?" she asked him. She suddenly wanted to know if he regretted marrying her. If he had known what a handful she would be. How she wasn't a good wife at all but a burden to him, would he still have married her.

"Right now?" he asked as his hands roamed up her arms in a motion to warm her body up from the cold outside.

"I mean, are you glad you married me?" she asked.

He let out a sigh.

"I suppose." he admitted.

She sat up and looked at him.

"What do you mean, you suppose?" she asked. He didn't love her. He hated being her husband and now he was trapped in wedlock with her.

"Ariadne, you have to admit, you're very difficult sometimes." he said carefully.

"_Difficult_?" she breathed. Her heart thumping in her chest. "In what way?"

Her tone was a challenge. One in which she expected him to bow gracefully away from.

"In every way." he said. "I expected a lady who would want to be a wife and mother. Instead, I have beautiful woman who insists on embarrassing herself and me by getting arrested and making me the laughing stock of my peers."

She leaned away from him. His hands steadying her body so she wouldn't fall off his lap.

"They laugh at you?" she asked.

Arthur nodded but tried to look indifferent.

"It's not easy to be respected when your wife is known to be apart of the suffrage movement." he explained.

"I'm sorry." she whispered. "I didn't realize..." she stammered and felt foolish.

"Ariadne." he sighed and shifted her body weight to be closer to him again. "I don't want you to go to those meeting anymore. I want you focus on our life here at home. On a family of our own someday soon."

She tensed at the talk of a family and tried not to show it.

"Arthur, I go to those meetings because it's important to me. You can't ask me to change who I am." she said. It felt like she was drowning again. That she was losing herself in this monochromatic blob of wife, daughter and mother. If she fell any deeper into the waters of that life, she would be totally lost. Everything that made her unique would be gone and she would become the thing she hated.

"Who you are," Arthur said as if reading her mind, "is my wife."

"It's not _all_ I am." she said in a whisper.

He seemed to have no response to that as she bit her lower lip to keep from crying.

"It's alright." he was saying as the tears dropped out of her eyes against her will. He seemed to have pity on her and didn't want to see her upset.

She let out a sob as he pulled her to his chest. As though she were a small child who needed comfort.

"Last night." he whispered. "Was the first time you ever said you loved me. I think we need to hold onto that. Start over from there."

He was kissing the top of her head. The same way he had done just after they were married and she was so shy at being around him.

She tensed suddenly as his fingers started to play with her short hair.

When had she told him she loved him? Her mind raced back over last night. Of the fever she had and the way he touched her. Of their bodies rocking back and forth together like two ships at sea.

She felt slightly dizzy at the idea she had told him that. Her husband, still such a stranger to her.

"No more meetings, Mrs. Brandon. No more of these radical ideas. We're going to be happy." he was saying as she felt raw, naked panic take over.


	15. Chapter 15

15.

~ Ariadne trembled slightly as Arthur ran his hand up her bare leg. A leg not protected by stockings or even underthings. He was looking at her strait in the eye. A strange intimacy gripped hold of her she wasn't used to feeling.

It was an odd feeling, too meet someone in the eye like this. She couldn't remember ever having done it before. Now, she wasn't prepared for the way Arthur's eyes looked into hers.

It was as if he was baring his heart to her. His face looked casual enough. Content and comfortable with her seated on his lap like she was. But his eyes were searching hers. Looking for that part of her that would crack and become what he wanted her to be.

"You look very fetching in my dress shirt, Mrs. Brandon." he said and leaned back in his chair as his hands explored up her calf and to her bare hip. His fingers touching the skin that was always hidden by her constant modesty.

"Well, you left me with little options." she breathed.

Her heart was racing as she realized she liked the way his hands felt. Caressing her skin just now. It was wrong to be here in her own sitting room, half naked with Arthur just now. He was looking at her in that way again. The look that meant he was pleased with her and wanted affection from her.

"I should go back to my room and rest." she breathed and tried to move away from him.

"It's too cold upstairs, Mrs. Brandon." he said and his large hands halted her retreat. "I don't want you to fall ill."

"Arthur." she breathed and couldn't stop a smile from blooming on her face as he pulled her closer to him.

"You look very fetching, indeed." he murmured before his lips started attacking her neck and his hands, those devilish hands, were moving up his dress shirt and discovering she wore nothing under it.

Quickly, before she could utter a protest, he had moved her small body to straddle him. Her legs resting over his lap like she was going for a ride. His hand pushing the shirt up to exposed her abused and redden bottom to the cool air. While his other hand had easily freed the buttons of his shirt and her breast were uncovered to the warmth of the fire.

He wasted no time at all as his lips started to kiss her nipples and she let out a soft moan at the touch. Her body once more his play thing as she could feel a knowing hardness rise up to meet her. Her softness could feel the impending maleness beneath his pants as she tried not to give in. Tried not to let her body take over.

Her legs were still sore and her bottom still painfully red and abused. She doubted she could do this again.

And in the sitting room no less. The picture window just a few feet away where anyone could see them! It would be a crime!

"You're so beautiful." he was whispering. "You'll be happy, I promise."

She wanted to say something to this, her hips rocking next to his as her skin started to feel hot again.

The fever, the fever was coming back.

"Once you're a mother, you'll be happy. You won't be so confused." he was saying as she took delight in the feel of her naked womanhood grinding on the hardness still trapped beneath the fabric of his pants.

She was suddenly overcome with nausea.

Again the talk of babies and her being a mother. She could picture it now. Arthur going off to work, meeting at social clubs with his friends. She at home with a litter of young ones, crying and demanding attention all the time. She wouldn't be allowed to see her friends ever again. She technically wasn't allowed to see them now. Once she had a baby, she wouldn't be able to leave the house unless on some silly errand for the child. Or to social functions her tyrant of a husband approved of.

She would be trapped. She _was_ trapped.

She was drowning again and she felt the urge to suddenly throw up.

"I don't feel well." she whispered and nimbly moved off him.

"Ariadne." he was saying in a choked voice that sounded like he was in pain.

She ignored him as she raced up the stairs. The smell of his aftershave was everywhere. It permeated her skin and it was making her sick.

She felt the rooms were spinning as she almost crashed into her own bedroom. She barely got her door closed before the dizziness over took her and she had to sit down.

Her world had frighteningly taken a horrible spin and she wasn't sure how to make it stop. Her blood was panicking now. Her mind racing with dark thoughts that seemed to turn into black birds. Birds that fluttered in her brain and screamed like newborn babies.

She laid down on the cold floor of her bedroom and waited for the spinning to stop. Waited for the urge to throw up to stop.

She was crying as she wanted this sickness to end.

~ It felt like a long time before her panic subsided. Before her stomach decided to settle down and she could think more clearly.

She sat up slowly and her body felt heavy and stupid.

'_Bath_.' she thought numbly.

She didn't want to be bothered, so, she used the old trick her school mates had done when they wanted to torment each other. She took her oldest shoe and wedged it under the door. Effectively making it hard for Arthur to come into her room unless he wanted to break down the door. In his state however, Ariadne worried he might just resort to it.

She drew her own bath and didn't bother with the salts. She glanced at her naked body in the mirror and felt sick again. Her bottom was still red with the whelps Arthur had delivered the past few nights.

She was feeling nauseous again, and almost fell into the bath water as a means to make the spinning stop.

The therapeutic waters worked their magic, and she felt slightly better as she cleaned her sore body and washed her painfully short hair.

She missed the long locks Arthur found so appealing, but he had to admit that it was much easier to manage now.

Lost in the actives of girl primping, she felt better.

She oiled her hair as it dried and combed the shorter locks into a suitable style.

She found it curled naturally around her shoulders and she decided to wear it like that. She scrubbed her face clean and dressed in a rust colored skirt and blouse.

She despised winter colors. Hated how drab they were and how they could double as mourning clothes. She didn't like the idea of being mistaken for a widow just because it was unseemly to wear bright, summer colors in fall.

She would go out, she decided as she felt more like herself in her own clothing. Her undergarments keeping her safe and her shorter hair looking exotic and extremely fashionable.

There was a hard knock on the door.

"What do you want?" she asked the door. Knowing full well it was Arthur.

"I thought you might want to go out to dinner tonight, Mrs. Brandon." he said. His voice hard and edgy.

"I've got plans with Mary and a few others from my group." she told him as she pinned a fashionable hat to her head and admired how trendsetting she looked just now.

"I thought we agreed-"

"We agreed on nothing." she interrupted him. Her new look, giving her courage as she kicked the old shoe way from the door jab and walked past the tall, sleek form of her husband and down the stairs. Not even looking back at him.

"You ordered me about as if I were a child, punished me as if I were a child and expect me to listen to you? I'm not a child, sir." she told him as he raced to keep up with her.

"Ariadne, you will not leave this house like that. You will not leave this house at all!" he commanded as he grabbed a hold of her arm and pulled her roughly to him.

She wasn't afraid of him, she realized. Arthur wouldn't hit her like her father had. He wasn't the type to give over to rages like a spoiled child who didn't get his way.

"Let me go!" she shouted and pulled her arm free.

Her husband stood flabbergasted on the front steps of their home as she marched away from him in the cool afternoon air.


	16. Chapter 16

16.

~ Ariadne walked quickly into the heart of the busy streets that were populated by the more working class of the city. She was sure her husband would follow her in a cab soon enough, and she wanted to blend in better. She hugged her coat and purse tightly to her body as she crossed the street with the multitude of pedestrians. The city had gotten so crowded now. So many different people living and working here. So many children running around and work men and wash women in their faded clothing. Ariadne looked out of place in her sensible rust colored dress, and fashionable coat and hat.

She walked more quickly and brushed off the stares she got from the women who were no doubt perplexed to see a lady with short hair and wearing it down. They were all from the old country with their hair tightly braided up their heads. Kerchiefs holding the lose strands in place. This style made even the youngest and prettiest of them look very plain.

Ariadne quickly jumped off the curb and scurried past the cabbies waiting for the pedestrians to cross.

She was in no mood to do anything but walk. She felt anger at Arthur and deep down, realized it wasn't really him she should be mad at, but the whole system. Arthur was only doing what he thought was best. What he thought would mend their fences and help them was naturally a baby. He had been condition, they both had, that this was the logical next step in their lives together. But Ariadne wasn't sure it was what she wanted. Unlike cutting her hair, or even getting married, a child was something that wouldn't go away or fade with time.

Arthur had no way to understand how a baby wouldn't make her feel any better, but make her feel even more trapped.

"Mrs. Brandon!" a shout came out and a horse whinnied.

Ariadne turned to the sounds of horse shoes clopping on the street and the pretty work horse belonging to Mr. Eames came into view.

"Mr. Eames?" she questioned in shock as the familiar cab driver guided his prized horse to trot beside her.

"In the flesh. How are you?" he asked in a cheerful voice.

"I was just out for a walk. What are you doing here?" she asked. It seemed rude to ask what he was doing in the nicer part of the city, but she didn't want to say it.

"Ladies go visiting after church." he told her. "The lord may have rested on the seventh day, but we cabbies don't." he laughed.

"Oh." she said meekly and looked around. She almost expected Arthur to be looking for her. His scowl searching the crowds for his runaway bride.

She was a little disappointed not to see him.

"So, where are you going?" Eames asked.

"I'm not sure yet." she sighed.

"Well get in. It won't do to have a lady walk the streets." he said.

She didn't hesitate to climb into Mr. Eames' cabb and he nudged the pretty horse into traffic.

"My husband and I had a fight." she admitted. Although she wasn't sure why she was telling a virtual stranger this.

"That's good." Eames said in a cheerful voice as her glanced back at her.

"How is it good?" she wanted to cry.

"It's good for men and women to have a row every now and then. Proves there's still passion and love in the marriage. People are too refined and dainty now a days. Too concerned about what people will think. My Mum and dad, they fought every day and bounced the bedsprings every night." Eames said.

Ariadne blushed hot at the idea of what that meant.

"I didn't want to marry him." she admitted. "My father made me."

"I see." Eames said gently. "Does he treat you well?"

"Yes. He says he... well, that he cares for me." she said embarrassingly as they rode past a mob of people. The women carrying baskets of food to take home. The men, worn and weary from work even though it was Sunday and their day of rest.

"I think you're wishing for a fairy tale." Eames said wisely. "Take a look around you. Most of these men will get loaded at a pub later tonight. They'll go home, take it out on the wife. They'll be poor and unhappy for their whole life through and never know it could be better."

"Mr. Eames, that's what I want to change. I want women to be able to change their own lives and not be dependent on a man." Ariadne said hopefully. "They need the vote so they can make laws to be protected from abusive husbands. They need laws that say they don't have to have children if they don't want them."

"Does your husband abuse you?" Eames asked worriedly.

Ariadne slunk back in her seat and stared at the people passing by. The over crowded streets. The filthy children who were running around in their fierce games.

"No." she said at last. "He just, he doesn't understand me. He wants me to be something I can't be."

"I see." Eames said.

"If he only understood that giving women their right's won't interfere with men's rights at all. If he only saw that we're little better than slaves in their eyes." she said. Maybe Mr. Eames would understand. He seemed like he had more compassion than Arthur did.

"I sympathize with you." Eames said. "But those in power have never given away that power willingly. It's something that has to be taken from them. Never in the history of the world has a ruling class given up their status. It just won't happen."

"It _will_ happen." Ariadne said stubbornly.

Eames shook his head.

"We have to accept that, for now, these men are in control of the world. They have the money, the land and the power. They make the wars and the railroads. I'm an immigrant, I have no rights at all. I can't even be served in a restaurant if the owner doesn't like where I came from." he said.

"So do something about it." Ariadne demanded.

"I do." Eames said defensively. "I tell my customers to boycott places that won't serve immigrants. It's not a war that will be won over night, Mrs. Brandon, and you're a brave solider for wanting to fight in it. But it's a long road ahead. Someday your daughters and their daughters will thank you for the struggle."

"I won't have daughters." Ariadne said. "I've not interest in being a mother. To be tied down to a house and family is apart of servitude men expect." she said hatefully.

"Oh, babies are not to blame for anything." Eames said kindly. "Babies are the only hope we have left. Women are particularly good at bringing in hope and we males don't give you enough credit for it. Without women and fat little babies, where would we be?" he teased.

Ariadne shook her head and felt the lurch of the cab was becoming too much. The smell of the cooking in the tenement houses was wafting through the air and didn't help her.

She felt her world go dizzy again and that hateful need to throw up gripped her.

"Stop the cab!" she shouted and lunged for the door.

Eames jerked the horse to a halt and the animal gave a sharp whinny in protest as Ariadne fell out of the cab.

"Mrs. Brandon!" Eames was shouting in worry as she fell onto the dirty pavement.

Her light breakfast of toast heaving out of her and as she threw up.

Instantly, she felt better. The sickness, the dizziness leaving her body as she pulled out a lace handkerchief and covered her mouth.

Eames was at her side in an second. His strong, capable body helping her to stand.

"Let's get you back home." he was saying as a crowd of curious children were looking at her.

"I don't feel well." she cried softly as Eames helped her into the driver's seat. He was quick to climb in beside her. Her body tired and slumping against the back as the horse went into a trot again.

"We're going home now." he gently as she tried to keep the dizzy feeling at bay. "I think the talk of not having babies is a bit too late now, darling."


	17. Chapter 17

17.

~ Eames seemed to remember where she lived without any help from Ariadne. He guided the handsome mare down the street as she tried to keep her nose pointed in the direction of good clean air and not the smells of cooking that was coming out of people's homes.

Normally these smells never bothered her before, but suddenly, the heavy spices and fragrances of meat cooking made her frightfully sick. Her stomach clenched and she wanted to throw up again as they passed by the neighbors who liked to cook a ham every Sunday. The odor of the pig cooking was too much.

"We're almost there." Eames was saying as she buried her face in his shoulder and tried to ignore the way the cabbie lurched them around on the streets.

Mr. Eames' jacket smelled like a horse stable and washing powder. It was a clean and natural smell that didn't make her sick when the cold hair hit her face.

She leaned her head against his shoulder as her face felt flushed from whatever illness had taken her.

"Stay there." Eames whispered as he climbed down the carriage.

Ariadne felt dizzy as Eames left her to knock on her own front door.

She had no idea what was wrong with her. Most likely she ate something that didn't agree with her. She had barely touched food in the past few days; her appetite gone most of the time. She hadn't wanted any of the stew Mrs. Marsh prepared for them after her arrest. Or the tea and soda crackers Mary had passed out at the meeting. She also only had the toast her husband had brought her and a few chocolates. Why was she ill now?

She wasn't hungry at all. In fact, she was sure she never wanted to eat again. She was just weak and tired and wanted to lay down in the drivers seat of the cab now.

"Ariadne!" Arthur was saying.

His agile body had climbed up to the drivers seat and he was leaning over her. His eyes large as she tried to smooth out her hair and look presentable.

"What happened?" he barked at poor Mr. Eames.

"I was driving her to a friends house, sir." Eames said apologetically. "She just went a little green is all."

"Don't yell at him." Ariadne moaned to Arthur.

"Ariadne, what's wrong? You're white as a sheet." Arthur fumed as he carefully pulled her to a sitting position.

'_Had I been laying down?_' she thought and she was dizzy at the smell of Arthur's aftershave again.

"I want to lie down." she told him as the two men cam from either side of her and lifted her to the ground.

"Mrs. Marsh is home early." Arthur was saying as with easy grace, he lifted her in his arms and carried her inside. Her skirts causing no bother for him as she rested her head gratefully on his shoulder.

She wanted to say good bye to Mr. Eames. To thank him for taking her home and for talking to her. But she was too tired. To ready to fall asleep or be sick again, she wasn't sure.

~ Mrs. Marsh's cure for everything was a cup of tea with generous cinnamon added to it. Ariadne felt a little better as the older woman helped her undress and tucked her into bed.

"All this running about. It's no wonder you've fallen ill." the old woman was saying as Arthur stood in the doorway. A part of him afraid to enter his wife's bedroom as Ariadne tried to fight off another wave of sickness.

"Could it be the influenza?" he asked worriedly.

"No fever." Mrs. Marsh said and Ariadne could feel the old woman's hands on her forehead.

"Should I get the doctor?" he asked. "That cab driver said she was sick. He even had to stop the horse and everything."

"Mr. Brandon, I'm sure she just needs a good rest. Now, off with you." Mrs. Marsh said calmly.

Ariadne was barely awake when she felt the older woman come back and sit beside her on the bed.

"You're alright child." she whispered and Ariadne felt her face being cleaned by a damp cloth.

"I think I ate something bad." Ariadne wanted to cry. She wanted to throw up again, but lacked enough food in her body to do it.

"When was the last time you bled?" Mrs. Marsh asked.

Ariadne closed her eyes tightly.

"What?" she asked.

"The monthly. How long has it been?"

"Last month?" she said. She remembered preparing her own menstrual belt herself. Of staying in her room and resting for almost three days.

"No, wait." she said. The leaves were still green when she done that. It was shortly after the wedding.

"Two months." she said at last. "No, more than two months."

"You and Mr. Brandon have been having relations? He's been laying with you most nights?" Mrs. Marsh asked.

"What?" Ariadne asked. Her eyes growing wide.

"You're not sick, child. It's sickness of baby and nothing more."

"No." Ariadne shook her head.

"Well have to call the midwife to be sure, but you've got all the symptoms." Mrs. Marsh said.

"No, I can't be." Ariadne gasped as she wanted more clean air.

"Of course you can be." Mrs. Marsh laughed.

"No, I don't want to be!" Ariadne wanted to cry.

"Now, now." Mrs. Marsh was saying. "All this worrying you do needs to end right now. Or else you'll bare a child who is nothing but nerves."

Ariadne curled into a tight ball.

"No." she whispered as she started to fall asleep. "No, don't tell Arthur."

~ She woke up and it was dark outside.

She still felt weak, but less sick.

She relaxed at being in her own bed and was glad the air was so cold in here. She was alone and relaxed as she stretched out and rolled over.

She wasn't ready to see Arthur sleeping in her high back chair next to her bed. Feminine flowers covered the fabric of the chair as his too large body looked uncomfortable in furniture meant only for females.

"Arthur?" she whispered as she rolled over and shook his leg.

She was feeling much better after her rest. She suddenly found him sleeping there very touching, where as before, she would have felt it was an intrusion.

He was snoring lightly as she shook his leg awake.

"Arthur? she said again and with a deep breath, he woke up. His neat clothing not even wrinkled as he looked over at her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. His long body leaning over to her.

She nodded slightly and gave him a weary smile.

"Better." she told him. "I think Mrs. Marsh's tea helped."

"She says you're to eat something as soon as you can keep it down." Arthur told her. "Are you ready to try?"

She was starving, but was too afraid to even try.

"I can get you some bread." Arthur said. Mrs. Marsh went to the shop and got you some crackers to eat."

He looked more exhausted than her just now. His face lined with worry over her as she settled back in her covers.

"I'm a spoiled brat." she told him.

"I agree." he laughed.

"I haven't been fair to you at all." she sighed.

Arthur shook his head.

"Let's put it behind us." he said. "You gave me a scare. I'll have to make sure Mrs. Marsh doesn't buy any more discounted meat. I can't believe I didn't get sick to."

Ariadne shook her head.

Deep in her heart, she knew it was true. Knew that there was a baby now and she couldn't deny it or hide it from Arthur. She had wronged him in so many ways it seemed. He didn't asked to be wedded to such an unhappy woman.

"It's not Mrs. Marsh's fault." she sighed as her husband stood to get her something to eat.

He looked back at her. His face in the scowl she knew meant her was curious or thinking too much.

She let out a long sigh, summoned her courage and looked apologetically up at him.

"It's your fault." she said at last.

~ Arthur had pulled the plush, too feminine arm chair up to her bed.

She wanted to move away from him, it seemed like he was crowding her, but lacked the strength.

He was holding her hands and gazing up at her adoringly.

"We have to be sure. I'll have Doctor Winslet over as soon as possible." he whispered.

She nodded as he smoothed out the blankets of her bed.

"In the meantime, you should rest. We have to be careful with your condition." he said in a pleased voice that illuminated happiness.

"It's hardly a condition." she laughed. "I've just had the sickness and Mrs. Marsh may have jumped to conclusions."

"But there is no reason to think you're not in a delicate state." he said hopefully.

She rolled her eyes in mock loathing.

"When did it happen..." he caught himself. "I mean, how far along do you think you are?"

She shook her head.

"It's indelicate to talk about such things." she told him. Men didn't need to know about cycles and being indisposed for so many days out of a month. She hated even talking about these things with her own mother when the time came. It was a subject never spoken about in well brought up homes.

"The past few days. The spankings." Arthur said. His voice taught with fear. "I could have hurt the baby."

"We don't know if there is a baby yet, dear." she said taking his hand in hers.

Arthur seemed comforted.

"Still, you could miscarry because of it." he said and kissed her hands.

"I doubt it." she whispered. "I think I would have known if I miscarried."

Arthur still looked worried.

"I'm so sorry for... well for the past few nights." he said. "I was violent to you, and it was wrong."

She shook her head.

"No, Arthur." she said with a smile blooming on her face. "It wasn't wrong at all."

He kissed her lightly on the forehead and stood.

"I should get you something to eat." he said quickly. "Some toast and tea." he said hopefully.

She wanted to laugh at seeing him in such a giddy, confused state. Poor Arthur was always so composed. Now, he was almost bungling in his attempts to remain cool and passive.

She smiled as he left her. Happy that he was happy.

As soon as she heard his feet on the stairs, she frowned.

She wasn't sure if she even wanted this to happen. Arthur seemed pleased, but men only thought about babies when it was convenient to them. They didn't think about the dippers or the feedings. They only cared about their own vanity. When it was boy who could be like him and carry on his name. If it was a girl, the male mind had no use for the child.

Ariadne knew her father didn't care as much for her as he did her brother. She was sure Arthur wouldn't be interested in anything but a boy.

If she had a girl, her job would be to see that she grew up pretty and silly and married off to a nice man. If it were a boy, her job would be to watch him grow into his father and she would somehow always been on the outside of their world. Her rank would be even lower than it was now. Her son would take over as head of the house, the way her brother was destined to make decisions for their mother when their father passed.

Ariadne would always be a helpless, brainless little girl. Even to her own child.


	18. Chapter 18

18.

~ "Dearest, I hate to think of those men throwing rotten food at you the other day." Arthur said the next morning over breakfast. "Especially in your condition. Then of you sitting in a jail cell."

Ariadne rolled her eyes as she tore apart the toast Arthur and Mrs. Marsh made her eat. Her appetite was still hit or miss this morning. She was visited with frequent bouts of never wanting to see or smell food again, to a fearful need to eat something or starve.

Her stomach hadn't forgotten to wake her with more sickness that morning. She had thrown up a little and had to lay back down immediately. Her head spinning hatefully again as her body ached and she wanted to sleep more.

"We don't know for certain that I'm in any _condition_." Ariadne said plainly as she helped herself to coffee.

Arthur was quick to take it away from her.

"I've already had Mrs. Mills make a call to Dr. Winslet and he says no coffee or alcohol until he's certain." her husband said.

"I don't drink alcohol." she said angrily. She liked her morning cup of coffee with plenty of sugar in it and had a hard time functioning without it. She also didn't like Arthur censoring what she could and could not eat or drink.

"We have to think of the little one. Sacrifices have to be made." he said in a voice that irritated her.

She looked bitterly at the large cup of black coffee he was enjoying and scowled.

"I notice you're not the one who's making sacrifices." she said.

It was his turn to roll his eyes.

"I'm not the one who's in a delicate condition." he said and smoothed his hands over the vest that perfectly matched his suit.

"I wish the doctor would hurry. I've taken a half day from work to be here when he examines you." Arthur said.

"You won't be in the room, will you?" Ariadne gasped in horror. The very idea of him in the room while a doctor was there was horrific.

"Of course not." Arthur said in disgust. "But after he's done examining you, he'll need to report to me right away."

She nodded and fought the urge to be sick again. It was true. Everything that Mary had said. Men only thought of women as pretty little things for amusement, breeding and caring for children. Naturally the doctor would discuss her pregnancy with Arthur before her. If Arthur chose to, he would inform her if the baby inside her was healthy or not.

"At least now we don't have to worry about your arrest." Arthur said as he sipped his coffee. One eye on his paper as his wife glared at him.

"Why?" she asked.

He chuckled.

"No judge will send a woman to jail who's so delicate." he said.

"I wasn't too _delicate_ for you to whip me with a leather strap the other day." Ariadne snapped rudely.

Arthur looked up at her in surprise.

"I apologized for that." he said in a hushed whisper.

She pulled away from him. The inviting smell of coffee made her long for the bitter sweet drink.

He seemed to sense she was angry and sighed.

"I promise never to... well do that again." he said. "If I had known you were already in a... family way, I never would have done it."

"I'm not upset you spanked me." she snapped hotly. "I'm mad you're treating me now like something breakable."

"Ariadne, I won't have you getting emotional. It's not good for the baby." he said rationally.

"We don't even know there is a baby." she hissed.

Their conversation was rudely interrupted by Mrs. Marsh coming in.

"Doctor Winslet is here, sir." she said in a merry voice. "Come on, child." she said to Ariadne and pulled her to a standing position.

~ Ariadne had never even seen a doctor before today and wasn't sure what to expect. She had never been seriously ill and the very idea that she would need a doctor to confirm a pregnancy was silly.

But, Arthur was insist about these things, and Mrs. Marsh helped her to change into a night gown before the older man let himself into her bedroom.

~ "Now, there is no need to be uncomfortable." Doctor Winslet said as he felt her abdomen and breasts.

Ariadne looked worriedly at Mrs. Marsh.

"When was the date of her last cycle?" he asked the older lady.

"Some time around August." Mrs. Marsh said.

Ariadne opened her mouth to argue but couldn't for the life of her remember a cycle after August.

"So, that's at least two months gone." he said. "And you say there has been vomiting as well?"

"Yes." Mrs. Marsh said happily.

No one was even talking to Ariadne. She was the patient wasn't she? She had a voice. Wasn't it her body the doctor was looking at?

"Very good. Well, Mrs. Brandon. I would start your sewing of bonnets and bootees now. You'll be a family of three in May." he said.

Ariadne sat up in her bed and looked bewildered at the doctor.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Very certain." the doctor said happily.

She looked at Mrs. Marsh.

"Please excuse us." she whispered to the older woman. Mrs. Marsh looked affronted to be asked to leave and looked to the doctor for advice.

"It's alright." the older man said.

As soon as the house maid was out the door, Ariadne grabbed the doctor's sleeve.

"Isn't there anything you can do? To make it go away?" she asked in a desperate whisper.

"Make it go away? Mrs. Brandon, you're a married woman. You're husband earns a nice living for you and you have a fine home with a live in servant." he looked offended. "You're not some silly farm girl who got into trouble from the neighbor boy."

"Doctor, I don't want to have a baby." she whimpered.

"Young Lady, babies are a natural product of marriage. There is no reason to not have this child and it's illegal and immoral to end the pregnancy. The choice is not yours to make, young lady. The lord has plans for you and your child and it is not for you or I to change them. Now, I'm sorry. I can't help you." he said in an irritated tone.

Ariadne felt betrayed as the doctor turned his back to her and left.

She felt a horrible sinking feeling creeping over her as her whole life was already planned and mapped out.

Her days of tending to fussy little people who screamed and cried and broke her nice things. Who had to be taught everything and who would never stop coming and wanting attention. Arthur would stay out later and later till, like her own father had done when she was a bothersome child, he would find some mistress to spend time with. Ariadne would pretend she never knew and they would go on like this forever. Two people, not in love, but tolerating each other.

She felt her heart beat willy in her chest as she wanted to scream for the doctor to come back. There had to be something he could do. She wasn't ready to give up her freedom. She thought leaving her parents home for Arthur's would be so much better. Her husband granted her liberty where her father wouldn't. But now, now she would be forever tied down to home and family.

She stood and smoothed out her night dress. Her hand on the door knob when she heard Arthur's voice in the hall, jut outside her room.

"That's good news." he breathed. "I've been worried."

"No reason at all to worry, sir." Doctor Winslet was saying in his superior tone. "She's young and healthy. This is a natural and normal process that happens to women. It's their destiny."

"I'm just relived she's alright. She's been acting so out of sorts lately. I hardly know what to do." Arthur said.

"How do you mean?"

Ariadne pressed her ear to the door and strained to hear.

"Well, she's been so defiant lately. She's been meeting with those women who support the suffrage movement. I'm ashamed to say I didn't respond to her arrest as kindly as I should have. I had no idea of her condition at the time." he said hurriedly.

Doctor Winslet was quite for a while.

"All women change depending on their moods." he said wisely. "Let us hope that it was just a hormonal shift due to the pregnancy. Now that she knows where her responsibilities are, she might seek more pleasure in a domestic life. You must encourage this and never bring up those vile women and their nonsense ideas."

"What if she doesn't snap out of it?" Arthur fretted. "Ariadne is such a kind woman, she would give her last penny to help a child with no shoes in winter. It's the thing I admire most about her. But the past few days, it's like I've been living with a stranger."

Ariadne felt her pulse race in some strange unknowable fear.

"She's even different when we're..." he paused and she could picture him looking embarrassed. "When we're _together_."

"I see." the doctor sighed. "Well, it's not uncommon for a woman's mental health to be more fragile than a mans. Women don't have the mental fortitude to endure things that the stronger sex does. If it becomes too difficult for you to handle, we can talk to a college of mine about treatment at Thornwood."

"The sanatorium?" Arthur asked. "No, Ariadne isn't like those people."

"Still, if her behavior might harm herself or the child within her, we can not sit by."

"I won't believe she would hurt herself or the baby." Arthur insisted.

"And did you believe she would cut off her hair? I meant to ask you about that." the doctor said in a pompous voice.

"I think she did that just to annoy me." Arthur said bitterly.

"Sir, I'll have my college doctor Denton come and see the both of you. He is an expert at treating women with hysteria. It's a mild practice of simple stimulation. We can see how well that works and then talk more." the older man said.

Ariadne listened as their footsteps moved across the hall and to the stairs. She couldn't hear anything else they said after that.

She felt the sickness come back again.

Thornwood. The same sanitarium her father threatened to send her when she wouldn't act like a proper lady. It was a nice word for a mental hospital. She would be sent there with women who had killed their husbands or were accused of trying to hurt themselves. It was a dark and horrible place. A place for forgetting the things that didn't fit in your life and brought you shame and inconvenience.

Would Arthur really put her there? Lock her up and throw away the key?


	19. Chapter 19

19.

~ Ariadne felt like her the very breath that had so freely pushed in and out of her lungs, had been robbed of all it's precious air. A deflated feeling pricked her flesh as she stumbled to her bed.

She curled under the covers and wrapped the bedding over her. Like some kind of animal wanting to hibernate for the winter, all she could think to do was escape through sleep.

She couldn't be something she wasn't. She couldn't even pretend to be a decent wife. Now, now this doctor thought she might have to go to asylum for girls who didn't fall into line. She wasn't sure what happened in places like that, but it was always a real and ever present threat to women who weren't happy at all times, and who's husband's had had enough. Was Arthur really cold hearted enough to banish her? And what about the child? Would she be forced to have it in some filthy place like that? Never to see it again or have the chance to be it's mother?

A fear gripped her so tightly in the belly she thought she might be sick again.

All she could do was wrap her covers around her body tighter, and cry all her fears out.

~ Mrs. Marsh didn't bother her for the rest of the day. Ariadne slept and the few times she woke up, she couldn't face the harsh realities of her world so sharply turned into turmoil. She quickly fell back asleep again, enjoying the void where there was no memory or pain. Sleep was welcome and wonderful to her now and she didn't wake up until Arthur roused her when he came home.

~ "Did you have a good rest?" he whispered as he sat on the edge of her bed.

Ariadne's body hurt from her day of sleeping, but she managed to nod.

Her husband looked his normal, always put together, self. By contrast, she was a wreck in her wrinkled night dress, messed up hair that was too short, and her worn and tired face.

It annoyed her even more when Arthur put his large hand to her cheek. His fingers grazing her skin as though he thought her face was a work of art.

"I look horrible." she said feeling herself blush. His eyes were drinking in every facet of her and she knew, as surely as she knew anything else, that he loved her.

"I've brought you something." he whispered as she sat up in bed and clutched the bedding closer to her her body. She was a good girl and, even in her husband's presence, it wouldn't do to not cover up.

He shifted on her little bed and picked up a brown paper bag.

"I know it's premature, but I couldn't help myself. There was this display window on my way home from work." he said as she gingerly took the carrier bag from him.

She was almost afraid to touch it. A part of her feeling like she wasn't a good wife, and she wouldn't be a good mother. She didn't deserve presents or the love of a husband like him.

"What is it?" she asked as she tried not to sound afraid.

"Open it." he teased.

She carefully, carefully pulled back the white tissue paper in the bag and pulled out a pair dainty little shoes. They were adorably small and made of real leather. The lacings were pink and had shinny fittings of silver in the detailing. They were not meant for any doll or child who could walk, clearly they were made as decoration for a new baby girl.

"Arthur." Ariadne wanted to cry as her heart broke a little at the sight. They were so small and perfect, she hardly had words for how much she loved them. They were her favorite thing in the world just now.

"I know it's too soon to buy things." he said. "We don't know if it's a boy or a girl yet." he added.

She turned the little shoes over in her hands and inspected the well made leather and the tiny pink bows. It was the bows that made her want to cry all over again, but not from sadness.

"The boys shoes were too boring and... I don't know, I just had to get these." he laughed at himself.

She said nothing as her heart felt a little lighter. As if some kind of happiness and hope had infused itself into her blood.

"You know, when my brother died last year, it took me a long time to feel any kind of joy. He was my rock. When we were growing up, our dad was working all the time, mother was sick with the TB and my brother took care of me. I was this scrawny little kid and I admired him so much. Everyone loved him, and when mother and father passed, all I had for family was him. Now, he's gone to and I'm just glad that I have another chance at a family." he said.

Ariadne looked up at her husband in shock. She knew he had a brother who had passed away, but that was before they even met and she had never heard him talk like this before.

She wasn't sure what to say, so she kept quite and let him talk.

"I know," he sighed and they looked at the shoes instead of one another. "I know I haven't been an ideal husband to you. I work too much, and I don't try to understand what you're feeling. I know you're mad at me a lot of times..." he shook his head. "But I want this baby to keep us together. I want my family back. I just... I think it's what's been missing in our lives."

She wanted to tell him a baby wouldn't solve anything, but make things worse, but instead, bit hard on her lower lip.

"I know that we'll love this child. I know that things will get better now." he said.

She rubbed her fingers over the fine leather.

"What if they don't?" she asked in a small, frightened voice.

Arthur looked perplexed.

"What if I'm not a good mother?" she asked. "You don't know how hard babies can be, Arthur."

Her husband looked back at her. His brow furrowed as if he were confused.

"I'm not ready to be a mother." she sighed. "And I heard what you and that doctor were saying in the hall. I'm not insane for wanting to be treated like an equal and wanting the vote. That's what's important to me. If you really loved me, instead of loving this _idea_ of what you think a wife would be, you'd know that."

She put the shoes carefully back into the bag and climbed out of bed. Her body fully awake now as her blood coursed hot and angry.

"The vote." he sighed and stood up. "I won't have anymore of that suffrage nonsense in this house. We will not have our daughter exposed to ideas that will ruin her in society."

"Daughter?" she laughed manically. "If we even have a daughter, that's who all this will be for!"

"Mrs. Brandon!" Arthur said scornfully. "Calm yourself!"

"I won't!" she said sharply. "You want me to be this wife I can't possibly be, and now you think that just because you've put we with child, I'll have to conform to you and your ideas!"

"I'm going to bed. You need to rest to. This fighting isn't good for the child." he said and started towards the door.

"DON'T YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME!" she suddenly cried.

She didn't want him to leave. If he was the one who left, that meant he won the fight, and she wasn't ready to lose this battle.

"You're pregnant and I won't have you upset." Arthur said calmly.

"I'm already upset. I'm not going to any asylum for being a free thinker!" she said bitterly.

"I would never put you there!" Arthur snapped back.

"Yes you would!" she started to cry.

Ashamed, she put her hands to cover her mouth as her face no doubt looked horrid with her overpowering urge to weep coming over her.

"I'm not a good wife." she sobbed. "I'm not normal and I don't deserve anything!"

Like a pitiable child, she spiraled into a feeling of self loathing that couldn't be helped.

"You're upset right now." he said as she cried. He didn't move to comfort her, or ask try to tell her anything of solace.

Her sorrow quickly transformed into anger at the thought he wasn't going to at least say a kind word.

He was turning to leave when her anger sparked agin.

"NO!" she shouted and, without thinking, she grabbed hold of the blue and white vase that stood on a little pedestal in her room.

She threw it at him with all her might and Arthur, his body quick and agile, ducked just in time.

He stood up strait as she looked for something else to throw at him.

Her eyes falling on her hair brush this time.

Like some sort of dance, he was quickly on her. His hands covering her wrists as he pulled her to him.

"Stop it." he said calmly.

She tried to push him away, but he was so much stronger than she was. His lean body deceptive to how much power lurked there.

He remained rooted to the floor. His body immovable as she struggled to free herself.

"Stop." he whispered in her ear as she started hitting his chest. Her feeble hands not injuring him in the slightest.

She tired once more to push him, when he suddenly had enough.

"Mrs. Brandon." he said in his calm and dangerous voice. "Go to my bedroom."


	20. Chapter 20

20.

~ Her body burst into life as his eyes bore down on her. Her breathing increased as her bottom already started to tingle with excitement. Her heart raced in her chest as if she were afraid, but it wasn't fear that cause such a response.

It was elation.

Her hands went to her back, trying to protect the soft, innocent flesh she knew he would attack.

"Go to my room, Mrs. Brandon." he said in that same horse whisper she recognized when he was in need of her.

Her brain told her to fight. Her morals, her strong stance on women's rights and the movement, told her to run away from him. Go to Mary's house, try to get Eames' help perhaps. But her feet wouldn't listen to her head.

She slowly... oh so slowly, walked around him. Their eyes never breaking from one another as a tentative treaty had been reached.

She walked out of her room. A giddy rush of fear rippling through her body as she wondered if he would chase her down. Wondered if he would wrestle her to the floor and pull her night gown up-

She shook her head as her skin flushed hot at the idea.

'_No, he won't do that._' she thought hurriedly.

She heard Arthur's footsteps behind her as she ducked into his dark, masculine room.

A fire was crackling in the hearth as her bare feet made contact with the plush rug. Her toes sinking into the fine fibers that were in a dark, monochromatic pattern.

She turned to see her husband, looking especially handsome in the suit he had worn that morning. The vest undone and his sleeves rolled up.

She felt some unknowable part of her take pride in how nice he looked. How any woman would want such a man. And how she was lucky to have him to herself.

He was pulling off his vest, and reaching in the wardrobe for the leather strap.

She smiled as though she were about to receive a present. Her heart beating wildly in her chest as she wanted to show him she wasn't afraid. She wanted to show him she _wanted_ this to happen.

Casually enough, she pulled off the light cotton night dress and the cool air on her forbidden skin felt wonderful.

Arthur turned from his wardrobe to see her in her glory. His face falling as his mouth came slightly open.

Ariadne knew then, she had pleased him.

She stood casually without coverings of any kind as he looked her over. Her fingers going to her hair as if she were wearing clothes, and not standing before him in such a carnal way.

"Did I say you could undress, Mrs. Brandon?" he asked. His voice was choked and strained as he looked away from her and to the leather strap in his hand.

"I guess that's just one more lashing for me." she said innocently.

Her body perking up at this silly and exciting game they were playing.

Arthur smiled as he walked around her. It was as if he were examining her for purchase.

"Your bottom has already healed." he said as he touched her belly, and traced his fingers around her waist.

She wasn't sure where to put her hands as he prowled around her. His inspection seeming to take a long time as his warm hands moved over her unsuspecting skin. She was naked and defenseless as his palm started to rub over her bottom.

"I have to be gentle." he whispered in her ear. "Nothing too hard."

"I guess I can always break another vase." she hissed back as that strange pool between her legs grew wet and hungry at the feel of his hand on her.

She could almost feel the smile itching up his lips as he caressed her soft bottom with his hand.

"I don't want to hurt you." he said as he gently, and laughably spanked her.

"How am I to learn a lesson this way?" she breathed and she trembled with excitement.

She felt her body come to life at the feel of this simple and teasing assault.

He seemed to sense her taunting him and was quick to slap her rear end again.

She jumped slightly at the blow and wondered if he was liking this as much as she was.

'_Am I liking this?_' she wondered as he struck her again and her hands went between her legs. The heat from her own palms exciting her. '_What's wrong with me?_' she wondered and then lost all thought as he started to spank her with an open palm.

He was good at this. His hand spanking her and then rubbing away the stings.

She jumped with each and every delivery and her body screamed it's approval. She wanted this. She wanted this!

"Harder." she moaned as her own fingers angrily rubbed her folds and she was treated to a delightful sensation.

Her husband, never one to deny her, complied and struck her harder.

"Harder! Faster!" she said in breathless frustration as her hand started to keep rhythm with his spanking.

He was spanking her over and over again in a comforting rhythm which she matched with her own hands.

"Put your hands down." he ordered shapely and she instantly obeyed him. Her sex, so misunderstood, screamed wetly for her attentions again, but she wanted to do as he commanded now.

She closed her eyes at the feel of the leather strap over her bottom. Her flesh was red, stinging and hot as the corse, chapped leather was too harsh for such raw skin to enjoy.

"One might think you enjoyed this." his said into her ear.

She shivered slightly and tried to keep her hands down. Her wetness desperate for contact. For penetration of any kind.

"Lay down on the bed." he ordered and she complied without question. She was about to rest on her belly when he stopped her.

"No, lay on your back. Spread your legs for me." he ordered.

She hesitated.

She wasn't used to that. Normally her legs were never opened like he wanted. To be naked was one thing, but what he was asking was just lewdness.

"Lay on your back, spread your legs." he said as she watched him rub at the bulge that was covered in his pants.

She did as she was told. Her face flushing hot as the cool air hit that strange wetness that only happened when she was with Arthur. Her body, still such a mystery to her. A body and it's functions that were not discussed in their society.

"Good." Arthur was breathing as she shifted to spread her legs as wide as she could.

She gasped at the contact of his hands on her sex. His fingers plucking lightly at the folds and dampness that had begun there.

She let out a confused moan and tried to cover her face for the embarrassment of it.

"Hands at your side." he said gently as his hand started to rub and tickle her.

She found she liked the feel of his hands on her. Her sex responding to his touch as he started to lightly stroke her.

Her breathing picked up at the feel of him touching her. His stroking becoming more and more forceful, till he suddenly pulled away.

She felt lost at the lack of contact, her eyes fluttering open to see her husband, shedding his clothing as she lay before him. Her legs spread and, no doubt, looking like a vile woman.

She was sure he would climb on top of her now. Felt sure that he would fill the hunger inside her with his own, impressive maleness. But he only stood there. His eyes glaring over her body as she squirmed with lust.

"Arthur?" she asked feebly as he picked up the leather strap.

"I think this is what you want." he said in a desperate whisper. His free hand pumping on that hard and angry member who wanted to claim her.

She wondered feebly what he was about to do. Did he want her on her stomach now? Did he want to spank her again? He looked so angry right now and she delighted in the feel of his raw emotion.

"I'll be kind." he promised before the leather strap smacked her between the legs. Her wetness causing a strange sound as leather met skin. Her sex jumping at the contact of the leather and she spread wider for him.

"Oh, God!" she panted as her back started to arch and all she wanted was for him to do it again.

As if reading her mind, he struck her sex with the strap again and again. Each blow lazy and giving her time to recover from the first one.

She bit her lip as her hips rose up to demand more from him. The strike was not painful, more of a ticklish feel that wanted to rip her apart.

Her sex sparked angrily as he lightly slapped it with the leather strap. Her hips squirming in frustrated delight.

"Arthur!" she moaned as her bottom lifted off the bed to beg for more.

"Will you behave yourself?" he growled hotly. His eyes like hot coals as his palm lightly grazed over her belly.

"No." she moaned.

"No?" he questioned as the leather strap hit her wetness again and sent a wonderful tickling sensation through her.

Again.

She wanted it again. It didn't even hurt.

"No." she gasped as her legs started to shake as her body quivered.

He stuck her lightly between the legs with the strap and she felt her whole body spasm sharply.

She let out a breathless moan as her husband, his member ridged and angry leaned over to kiss her lips.

"What do I have to do to make you behave?" he whispered. His voice soft, but threatening.

She couldn't think. She wanted more of her punishment. She wanted to break something, hit him, anything to make him spank her more. She wanted to be punished like this forever.

"Do I have to tie you to the bed?" he was saying as he started to rest his lean body on top of hers. His hot member demanding entrance into her.

She did nothing to stop him. Her wetness was open for him to claim as her legs wrapped around him. She wanted the penetration of him. Wanted him to take her like a savage beast would take it's mate.

He was kissing her neck and her skin turned hot again. She could barely stand it this time. The room was hot, his skin was hot and her skin was on fire.

"Please." she moaned helplessly as the head of his maleness ventured inside her.

She wanted to swallow him up. Her needs so great she feared she might die from if he didn't take her. She wanted to be treated roughly. Wanted him to punish her this way. Wanted him to do all the things that she had been taught as a girl to fear.

She was shaking with anticipation as he finally, finally thrust himself into her.

Her entrance was so wet and ready for him, it was more like he glided into her. His member finding it's way in with ease as he was careful not to rest all of his weight on her.

"Oh, I love you." she breathed without thinking.

He pulled away slightly and started to kiss her. Sweet, innocent kisses that left her more aroused than the spanking.

"All I've ever wanted was to hear you say that." he whispered.

She felt tears sting her eyes as pleasure over powered her.

"I love you." she whispered again as he rode her. "I love you."

He was kissing her, their bodies joined and for that moment, everything was perfect.


	21. Chapter 21

21.

~ Ariadne's body was exhausted, but strangely charged. She was in no shape to do anything but rest, but suddenly, her legs and mind itched for physical activity.

Arthur had rolled her body into his. Her back to his chest again as his nose breathed in the smell of her hair.

"So." he sighed and she felt he was grinning. "Why the broken vase? That was a wedding present from your cousin."

"It was the nearest thing I could find to throw." she said logically as she watched his hands play with hers. She was fascinated with his hands and how they made hers look so small. How he had calluses on his thumbs and how his nails were smooth and worn down.

She felt him smother a chuckle in her hair.

"Yes, dear." he said. "But why did you have to throw anything at all?"

"Sometimes a wife has to throw things at her husband." she explained simply.

"Hmm." he said and she grinned at feeling his feet rub against hers. "I suppose it keeps the spark alive."

"Spark?"

It was her turn to laugh now.

"More like a fire." she told him and rolled over.

Arthur allowed her to face him and she was treated to a face that, for once, looked relaxed and happy. Gone was the scowl he always wore. Instead, he looked younger somehow. As if he were just a teenage boy, and not a grown man.

"I kind of like this fire in you." he said as his hand played over her bottom that tingled at the contact of his palm.

She grinned and tried not to blush.

"Tell me the truth." he sighed. "Why are you so angry all the time? Do you really hate being my wife? Do you not want to be a mother?"

She opened her mouth to say she loved being his wife, but closed it. Afraid of what she might say instead.

"I don't know sometimes what I want." she admitted.

She swallowed hard as his hands were in her hair.

"I want to be able to have a choice." she said at last. "I want to be able to choose what I want to do with my life. I wasn't given a choice to marry you, remember? My father told me you would propose to me that night and I had better accept it. I was scared not to say yes. I didn't have a choice about... about laying with you either. I can't exactly refuse. Even though I've never even kissed a boy until I married you and the whole thing terrified me. I don't have a choice in who my friends are either. I'm supposedly not of the right mind to listen to politics or understand them. That it's dangerous and disgraceful for me to think I should even be treated like your equal. So much so, people think I'm mentally unbalanced or that I want to be a man."

Arthur said nothing as she went on. His eyes looking over her carefully.

"Now..." she sighed. "Now, I'm going to have a child and that wasn't my choice either. My whole life will change and yours will be the same as ever. Men talk about babies and their legacy only as it's convenient to them. Women have to bear the child, care for it and give up their lives to provide that convenience."

"Ariadne." he started to argue.

"No." she said. "If I told you that you weren't allowed to go to social clubs with your friends, you wouldn't listen to me. How can your happiness be more important than mine? Why can you be friends with whom you want, marry who you wish and live as you like? Why can't I have the same?"

He opened his mouth to argue again but she went on.

"When I got involved with the suffrage movement, I felt alive. I felt I was accomplishing something greater than myself. I wasn't just Mrs. Arthur Brandon. I had my own name, my own ideas. I was surrounded by women who told me I didn't have to accept a life where I wasn't happy." she told him.

"So you are unhappy?" he asked in ernest.

She wasn't sure how to answer that.

He seemed to grow angry.

"Answer me." he demanded. "Do you not want this child? Do you no longer wish to be my wife?"

She felt a rush of cold terror flood her body as he shifted and moved away from her. The warmth of his skin leaving hers and she felt the harsh chill in the air.

"Is that what this is all about? You don't want to be my wife? You want to make me hate you so I'll request some kind of barbaric divorce?"

She watched her husband climb out of bed and walk naked to where he had shed his clothing hours before.

She sat up and clutched the bedding to her chest.

"This isn't about you!" she told him.

"The hell it isn't!" he told her. "You basically said you were forced to marry me. Forced to be in my bed and now you're forced to carry my child."

His voice was icy and annoyed.

"No, that's not what I meant!"

"Because, I don't remember forcing you to do anything tonight, or for the past few nights." he said as he pulled on his pants. "As I recall, you were a willing partner."

"How dare you speak of what we did!" she hissed. Embarrassment tinting her face red.

"Well, we all have to live with our choices Mrs. Brandon." he sighed. "I have to live with you as my ungrateful wife. You have to live as a proper lady with a husband and child. We can't change that." he said.

He was walking away from her.

"Arthur, this is your room. Where are you going?" she called back. Fear as she had never known was turning her body cold.

"I'll sleep in the spare room tonight. Alone." he said hotly and slammed the door behind him.

~Despite all the sleeping she had done the day before, Ariadne managed to fall asleep with ease. Her body felt exhausted and Arthur's bed was very comfortable.

She woke up before dawn needing to be sick again, and was grateful he had a bathroom so close.

She didn't want to rest anymore after she was sick. A feeling that she was too disgusting already was making her grumpy and unpleasant.

Arthur had chosen not to sleep in the same bed as her after their fight. He hadn't even asked her to go back to her own room. Instead, he slept in the guest room and she in his large comfy bed.

She rinsed out her mouth with water after she was sure she wouldn't be sick again and washed her face.

She hated looking at herself lately. Her whole appearance had drastically changed over the past few days and she wasn't sure yet if it was for the better. True, she felt more like the person she wanted to be, but everything she was doing seemed to result in some kind of disaster.

She let out a sigh and retreated to her own room.

She din't care for morning sickness.

It was unpleasant to feel like she was really sick with some horrible illness instead of pregnancy. Which, the way she felt just now, was as good as death sentence.

She took a hot bath, dressed and carefully pinned back her hair into the braided piece Mrs. March made for her.

She looked at her reflection, the high collar, the prim well starched ladies blouse, and the hair tucked neatly.

She didn't like what she saw. She looked like every other lady in the city and she didn't want to be that way anymore.

She stripped naked and started over with the dressing.

She put on a pale blue suit dress that was really more appropriate for spring that late fall. But it would be warm enough for her to go visiting in. She liked the modern cut and low collar of it with her shorter hair.

It brought out a certain flair no one else would have.

She had curled her shorter locks with a hot iron and pinched her cheeks red when the sun came up.

'_I'm not going to let anyone dictate my own happiness._' she thought as she practically ran down the stairs. '_Not Arthur, not anyone._'

Her husband was sitting in the dinning room reading his cursed newspaper as she arrived next to him.

"Good morning, dear." she said brightly.

He didn't say anything except to look up in surprise.

"In a cherry mood I see." he said dully.

"I think I'll go visiting today." she said as she buttered her toast and nibbled on some fruit. Hopefully eating something would make the dizziness stop.

"Dressed like that?" he laughed and looked down at her dress and short hair.

"Yes." she told him carelessly.

"And whom do you think you'll visit?" he asked gruffly as if she had to ask his permission to go out.

"I was going to call on mother." she told him.

Arthur looked hopefully at her. His eyes softer.

"I think that's a good idea." he said. "She doesn't know about the baby yet."

She only shrugged.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea to tell anyone. It's still very early." she said and stood. "Mrs. Marsh?" she called.

The old lady appeared, cleaning her hands on her apron.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Is that little errand boy we use nearby?" she asked as she walked past the housekeeper and into the kitchen.

"Oh, yes ma'am. I was giving him some porridge."

The child, who went by the name of Frankie, was the son of poor immigrants. He was the middle of a loathsome brood of kids whos parents had little time for. Thusly, he made a coin or two running errands for the maids of the nicer homes. Mrs. Marsh, as well as other kindly house keepers were always feeding the skinny boy who was willing to run to the green grocers for milk or eggs at a moments notice for a nickel.

"Frankie?" she asked the skinny child who wore dirty clothes that were too small for him.

The child looked guiltily up from his porridge. His eyes large and frightened.

"Yes, Miss?" he asked.

"Do you know Fisherman's house?" she asked. "There is a driver there by the name of Eames. Go there and tell him to collect Mrs. Ariadne Brandon."

The boy snapped to attention.

"There's an extra dollar in it for you if you bring him back here in less than an hour." she said and the child ran out the door.

Ariadne felt a rush of pleasure as she turned on her heel, marched passed her husband and didn't say a word to him.


	22. Chapter 22

22.

~ "Not used to being roused from my bed so early in the morning, Mrs." Eames said as the horse trotted through the early morning traffic.

Ariadne was a little amazed at seeing how busy the city was at this time of day. Milk men delivering their bottles of milk in wire baskets. Delivery men and farmers stocking up the shelves. Women in line to buy fresh baked goods.

As soon as they passed the bread baking, Ariadne tried to not breath in. The smell of overly sweetened bread and meats cooking in some of the shops would make her sick again.

"The child, Frankie, was happy to get a little cash I think." Eames laughed as he drove them quickly past the morning flower shops and the rainbow of plants on display. "His family needs every penny. His mother has the TB from what I hear. You could have just had him bring any cabbie, by the way."

"You said to call." she reminded him.

"I'm not complaining." Eames said happily. "Just a little too early."

"I was awake, and decided to see my mother." she said confidently.

"Ah. Tell her she'll be a grandmother?" Eames asked.

"Well, she's already a grandmother. My brother is married and has a son already. I just wanted to see her." Ariadne admitted.

"Now is the time for family." Eames said happily. "How did your husband take the news?"

Ariadne wasn't sure what to say.

"Better than I did." she admitted sadly.

~ Eames dropped her off at her mother's home. Ariadne paid him and gave him instructions to come back for her in four hours.

With her pregnancy and her marriage in such a state, she wanted to see her mother again. Wanted to be reassured by another woman who had been through all this before.

She always thought she was nothing like her mother, who had been quite to the point of being a ghost in her own home. She never spoke a word when their father was in the room, and rarely made any decisions in matters of how the children were raised.

She was exactly the kind of woman Ariadne strived not to be like.

~ "Ariadne." Patricia Rawlings said in quite, demure voice that was almost like a whisper. "How are you, dear?"

The maid had let the younger woman in as a guest only. Now that Ariadne was married and out of the house, she could no longer call this place home.

"I'm well." she said as her mother bid her to sit down on one of the sofas used only for company.

"How is Arthur?" her mother asked as the maid went to get them refreshments.

"He's very well." Ariadne said awkwardly. She wasn't sure how to tell her mother the news. It seemed something to be ashamed of. Even though she was married and others felt a baby was normal and expected, Ariadne felt it was shameful and weak.

"His work is going well?" her mother asked.

Ariadne looked at the woman who gave birth to her. All her life, this woman had been afraid of her own husband. Afraid of his wrath and mood swings. When their father was at home, or was in the room, the mood changed. It was as if he sucked all the happiness out. But when there mother was there alone with them, things were calm and her and her brother were happier.

"Mother, the doctor says I'm going to have a baby." Ariadne said with a quick rush of words.

Her mother looked a little shocked.

"Already?" she asked. Her eyes growing wide. "It was two years before I was expecting your brother.

Ariadne looked hopefully at her mother. The kind face, so afraid to say a word.

"Is Arthur pleased?" the older woman asked worriedly.

"Very pleased." Ariadne told her.

"Good." Patricia said and relaxed a little.

"Mother, how did you know you were ready to have children?" Ariadne asked.

"No one is ever ready, dear." her mother said with a little smile. "I was nineteen when your brother came along and scared out of my wits. I didn't know what to do with him. But I had nannies to come and help. You'll do fine."

"Were you... were you happy to have Bill?" Ariadne asked and shifted in her seat.

Her mother looked uncomfortable.

"I worried a lot about him." she said. "Until the day he went off to school. Your father was always so hard on him."

"So hard on Bill?" Ariadne said with repulsion. "Papa loved him."

"No, dear." Patricia sighed. "Your father was not a patient man when it came to children. He expected your brother to act like a man from day one. He had such expectations for the child that no one could live up to."

"He pushed Bill to better himself. He never even cared about my accomplishments." Ariadne argued.

"That was because you're a girl, dear." Patricia said with a smile. "What can a man expect from a girl?"

Ariadne felt offended, but kept quite.

"Now your brother, he could never do anything right by your father's standers. I was too young when I married him. I didn't know how to protect Bill from his father." her mother went on. "I thought it was for the best to stay out of it when your brother was punished."

"Punished?" Ariadne asked.

"When your brother would get bad marks in school, your father would punish him. Not with a strap or anything. He would make me draw a bath of cold water and hold him under." her mother explained.

Ariadne leaned back. Her face horrified.

"He never hurt him badly. Never came close to drowning. But he would hold him under the water for a little while. I thought it was better than to have him hurt the boy." Patricia said.

"Mother." Ariadne gasped.

"That evening when your father slapped you for talking about voting, I knew I had to get you away from this house." Patricia whispered and took her daughter's hand. "When Arthur came to dinner and your father told me he wanted you to marry him, I agreed. Arthur was such a nice young man and didn't have temper."

Ariadne felt the tears brim her eyes. She remembered Bill coming out of the bathroom, soaking wet with his clothes still on, many times when they were little. Their father telling him the child was a disappointment and a mistake. Bill trying hard not to cry.

It was normal. Wasn't it? She had never thought about it much except to think Bill must have deserved it, or else he wouldn't have been punished. Just like she thought she deserved to be ignored by her father and even slapped by him. Better to be ignored than to have him angry you all the time.

"Does Arthur treat you well, dear?" Patricia asked nervously. "He never hurts you, does he?"

"He never hurts me." Ariadne said numbly. She didn't ask why her mother allowed a man to brutalized her children like she did. Why her home was allowed to fester with unpleasant fear. Wouldn't it have been easier to just take the two young ones and leave?

But her mother came from a different generation. She had married far too young to a man with money and a temper. She didn't have to ask why the woman, so afraid of her husband already, would allow her children to be abused.

"Mother, what if you had a choice not to have married Papa? What if you could decide not to have children with him, and just left him?" Ariadne asked as she wiped away a stray tear.

"Oh, dear. That's not a choice. Women get married and have babies. That won't change." Patricia said soothingly. "I'm just glad you have a nice husband who treats you with kindness. That's all I've ever wanted for you. That's the best I can expect from you."

~ Ariadne was watching the people as Eames drove her back home. She hadn't said much as the horse trotted down the crowded streets. Immigrants teaming all around them in their strange accents and languages.

"Did you have a nice visit? You're awfully quite." Eames noticed.

"Just thinking." she told him as she looked out at children in the street. A girl was dressed in a thin sweater was standing by the street corner. Her face too pale with some kind of illness that was always breeding in these slums.

"Was your mother happy at the news?" Eames asked delicately.

"I don't know what she is, Mr. Eames." Ariadne sighed. "I know that I've never wanted to be like her. I've known my whole life I didn't want to be the kind of woman she was. I don't understand her."

She felt ready to cry again.

"And no one understands me." she sighed.

"It's going to be alright." Eames said.

"No it won't." Ariadne sait pitifully. "What if I become like her? What if, becasue I'm too scared to say anything, I'll allow my own children to be hurt? What if I keep my mouth shut and act like a good girl and raise another generation of girls who never accomplish anything but get married and raise another generation to do the same? Alwasy victims with no right to speak up."

"I think you're being a little over dramatic." Eames said after a while. "Does your mister hit you?"

She thought about the spanking Arthur had given her just last night. Her face going red.

"No, he's never hurt me." she said as her bottom tingled with the memory.

"Then why would you think he would hurt your children?" Eames asked.

Ariadne shook her head. Deep down, she didn't think Arthur would hurt any child. Let alone his own. He was a man of calm, cold words when he was upset. Her spankings, were always the exception.

She didn't want to talk about it anymore to Eames. He was too logical, too reasonable. He would listen to every word and try to make her feel better. She didn't want to feel better. She wanted to be free.

"I don't want this baby." she said outloud before she could stop herself. The instant the words left her lips, she knew she couldn't have this child. She wanted it out. She wanted to forget about it and go back to being herself. Not feel this burden weighing her down as if her whole was over before it had begun.

"Is that what you really want?" Eames asked calmly.

"Yes." she sniffed. "I just want to... I don't know, go back to being me."

"You need to be sure." Eames said.

"I am sure. I don't want a baby and I don't think I would make a good mother." she said soberly. A cool rush of power tickling her skin as she made her choice.

"I know a gentleman." Eames sighed. "He takes care of the some of the women around here. Too many mouths to feed, and they can't afford another one. So, they go to him. He takes care of it."

"What are you talking about?" Ariadne whispered. She didn't understand 'take care of it'.

"He's a doctor. When a lady doesn't want to have a baby, but is already in a family way, they go to him." Eames explained.

"What does he do?" Ariadne asked.

"I can't say, I only know about him. It's a woman's place. Men don't understand these things." Eames said uncomfortably.

"Take me there." Ariadne demanded.


	23. Chapter 23

23.

~ Ariadne looked around the tenement flat with an uneasy, quivering feeling. It was a simple set of rooms that the doctor, Eames didn't know his name, rented for this use. There was a little kitchen and bathroom. The front room had only a large, sturdy table, covered with a clean but stained butcher's tarp. In one corner, was a twin bed with a screen for privacy.

"So, less than three months late?" the doctor asked as she washed his hands and set a pot to boil.

"Yes." Ariadne said nervously as Eames stayed next to her. She had been too frightened to go here alone, and Eames, ever the faithful friend, agreed to accompany her.

"Have you felt any movement?" the doctor asked as he guided her to sit on top of the table.

She felt very nervous as the doctor's hands felt her pulse and motioned for her to take her dress off. Eames obligingly turning away for some privacy.

"Movement?" Ariadne asked as she striped down to her under dress.

"Have you felt the child move yet?" the doctor asked.

She hadn't heard of that before. Her mind not thinking about the burden inside her moving.

"No." she said feeling woefully under educated about these things.

"Good." the doctor said and guided her to lie down on the table.

Ariadne was glad Eames was in the room just now. She wasn't sure she liked this doctor with no name who rented a sparse railroad flat in an over crowded part of the city.

He felt her belly, harder than normal and Ariadne winced slightly.

"Any cramping?" he asked.

"No." she said.

"Just the morning sickness." he nodded.

"Yes." she said.

"Has a doctor examined you? Did he say he heard a heart beat?"

"I was examined. He didn't say anything about a heart beat." Ariadne said anxiously.

"Very good. Now, you know that this is illegal, but I do it because it's necessary." he explained. "Almost every day I get a woman with six or seven kids already and can't handle another one. Or, worse, I get some poor girl who was taken advantage of by some boy and finds herself in trouble. It's even worse when the fiend behind that crime is a family member."

Ariadne felt nervous about the ideas that the doctor was putting in her head.

"Well, you'll have to stay here for a few hours until I'm certain you've recovered." he said. I can tell you know, it will me uncomfortable. You'll have to keep quite because if the police find out, you'll be arrested."

"I'll wait outside." Eames said as the doctor went to the kitchen and started to take out shinny and scary looking tools.

Ariadne had no idea what they were for. Things that looked like a large fork and something that seemed nothing more that clean bayonet sword.

"Start undressing. I've a gown for you to use." the doctor said as he placed a bucket by the table.

"What's that for?" Ariadne asked as cold, ice like fear gripped her belly.

"For what come out." the doctor explained.

"Wait." she said feeling panicked as the the water in the pot started to boil. She felt sick again. She could hear a baby crying down the hall and the room was starting to spin.

"What do you mean, what comes out? What's going to happen?" she breathed.

The air was too tight. Too warm and it wouldn't start spinning.

"Change into the gown and lie down. By the end of the day, you'll be right as rain." the doctor said.

"No." she whispered as he pulled the instruments out of the hot water and laid them neatly on a towel.

"It's alright." the doctor said worriedly. "It hurts a lot less than labor, I promise you. Then you won't have to think about it anymore."

"Eames!" she cried.

"Mrs, everything will be alright." the doctor said.

A baby was crying somewhere in the tenement rooms on this floor and Ariadne wanted to run out the door. She was climbing off the table as the doctor was trying ask her to calm down.

"Eames!" she sobbed picking up her dress and starting to cover herself. The cabbie was quick to rush in.

"What happened?" Eames asked forming a barrier between the vial doctor and his patient.

"I want to go home. I... I changed my mind." Ariadne panted.

"That will still be ten dollars!" the doctor growled.

Ariadne searched her beaded hand bag and pulled free the cash. She felt sick as the baby down the hall was still crying for attention.

"We'll go home now." Eames was whispering when the police barged into the tiny rooms.

~ "There was no evidence of pregnancy, my god man." the doctor was explaining to the officer in charge. A tall man with blond hair and once youthful features.

"It's officer Cobb." the man said as Ariadne sat nervously on the bed.

"This is a simple and safe procedure to bring on the ministration. There was no reason to think she was actually pregnant at all. You can not arrest me." the doctor was saying.

"Are you the husband?" officer Cobb nodded to Eames.

Eames looked surprised as he tried to stay in a corner and out of sight.

"No, sir." he said.

"Then what were you doing here?" Cobb asked as the doctor was being taken away in handcuffs.

"I was driving her here." Eames said.

"I asked him to stay." Ariadne told him.

"Where is your husband?" Cobb asked coldly.

Ariadne pursed her lips tightly shut and refused to look at the once handsome police man. His face could be counted as beautiful, but the job and seeing too many hard things had made his good looks grow pale and worn.

"Mrs. I don't want to have to take you in." Cobb sighed.

"Then take me in." Ariadne snapped. "I haven't done anything wrong. It's like that doctor said, he was just trying to regulate my cycle."

"With a large knife and forceps?" Cobb argued.

Ariadne felt her heart beat faster.

"You realize Doctor Evens there has been performing abortions all over the city? That five women have bleed to death while under his care? That another dozen of them have succumbed to infections and toxic shock?" Cobb said darkly.

Ariadne refused to look at him.

"We did you a favor, Mrs. Stopping that man before he hurt you." Cobb added as another police officer was questioning Eames. How did the driver know about this doctor? Was he aware a fifteen year old girl died last night after being 'regulated' by the doctor?

Ariadne felt her stomach want to lurch as the baby down the hall was crying again.

She knew it was only a matter of time before they found out who her husband was and send for him. In fact, it only took a few hours of waiting in the same cell she had been in last time. The police got her name from the tag Mrs. Marsh stitched in her coat. From that, they were easily able to find her arrest record and summon her husband.

Ariadne wasn't sure what they would tell him, or what would happen when he found out. She felt the air grow cold when she heard Arthur's deep, angry voice ask for her at the front desk. She had been gratefully moved out of the cell for a few hours when a group of rowdy drunks were brought in. Officer Cobb thankfully having her sit on a bench while she waited for her husband to claim her.

Perhaps unknown to both men, Ariadne could hear their entire conversation.

"There's a reason why the practice is illegal Mr. Brandon." Cobb was saying. "It's too dangerous and poorly regulated. These con men call themselves doctors and insert unclean and dangerous objects inside to abort the pregnancy. It's enough to kill the baby, the woman can become infertile and even die."

"There has to be a mistake. My wife was visiting her mother." Arthur sighed.

"Unless there is another Ariadne Brandon who was also arrested for protesting outside a private citizen's house earlier this week." Cobb shrugged.

Ariadne felt like she wanted to be sick again.

She swallowed hard as Arthur and Cobb came around the corner to the waiting room. Her husband's face was darkened and angry looking.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes." she said sheepishly.

"Will there be charges brought on her?" Arthur asked Cobb.

"No." Cobb said as both men looked judgingly at Ariadne. "We can't prove she's actually pregnant and so we can't charge her with anything but seeking medical treatment. The doctor on the other hand..."

Ariadne didn't look at her husband as Cobb explained about the deaths believed to be cause by the doctor.

"Mrs. Brandon." Arthur said at last.

She took a long time to find her courage and looked at him.

His face was calmer now and less lined.

"Let's go home." he said.


	24. Chapter 24

24.

~ The silence between them was heavy and made Ariadne's stomach turn.

The driver of the cab seemed to want to take his time as he drove them home. The couple in the back sitting as from away from one another as possible as they passed by the crowded streets of people.

Ariadne looked out her window in an attempt to see the shoeless flower girl again, but only saw a horde of dirty, uncared for children.

She wanted to take Arthur's hand. Wanted him to hold her and make her feel safe and forgiven. But one look at his stony expression, said that she was not going to be let off that easily.

His face looked forbidding and ice cold. His eyes so dark, they looked frightening.

She swallowed hard and looked out her window at the people on the streets.

Somehow, she knew there would be nothing as simple as a spanking tonight. Tonight, everything would change.

~ Her husband, ever the gentleman, helped her out of the cab as it pulled up to their home.

She was surprised at how late it was. The sun having almost sunk into the city skyline.

"Thank you, sir." the cabbie called out and drove the horse away from the curb.

Arthur said nothing as he unlocked the front door and let them inside. The house was dark and she could feel it was empty.

"Where's Mrs. Marsh?" she asked in a whisper.

He didn't say anything as he shrugged off his coat and hat.

"Must have gone to bed early." he said in a low voice. "Maybe she thought we went out to dinner."

"Arthur, I'm sorry." Ariadne said. Relived just to get it out there. She had said she was sorry, there was nothing more now than for him to forgive her.

"I know your sorry." he said.

She had expected him to tell her it was alright, to forget about it and he still cared for her. She expected him to take her upstairs, spank her and make love to her again.

Nothing was happening the way she wanted. Her husband wasn't even looking at her.

"Arthur?" she croaked feeling that horrible moment of tears welling up.

"I think I'll go to bed myself." he said and kept his back to her.

"Arthur. I..." she stammered. "I didn't do it. I changed my mind. I... I never thought about-"

"Thought about what?" he snarled. "About killing my child? About harming yourself? You know that cop who took you in, that officer Cobb? He lost his wife from a botched abortion. He told me she died in horrible pain, bleeding and fever. She left behind two young children who needed her."

Arthur, I just saw this baby as a burden." she tried to explain. "I'm scared. I'm scared of being a mother... of not being able to take care of it. I saw my mother today and she reminded me of how little she did to protect my brother and me from our father."

She wanted to make him understand, but once more lacked the words.

"I just... I didn't think that anything good could come out of having a child until I met with that doctor." she said more to herself than to him. "Then, all I could think about was protecting it. Of not letting anyone harm it. I don't know why my mother let our father hurt us. I just know that... I know that I won't anyone hurt... hurt this child."

Her words came out of her with such honesty, with such ease, it was like someone else had said them. They fell from her lips as though she were in a trance and another person inside her, the person she wanted to be, was talking.

When she looked up, Arthur was watching her. His expression still cold and angry.

"I know you would never go through with it." he said. "You're not that selfish a person."

She wanted to argue. Wanted to tell him she _was_ selfish and just a few hours ago, she didn't want a baby at all.

He stepped closer to her.

"I know that you would never harm our child, Ariadne." he whispered. "Even before we were married, I could sense your good heart. I've seen you give money to children on the streets. I know that you have Mrs. Marsh give Frankie, the delivery boy, porridge every morning because his parents are too poor to even feed him. I know that instead of buying new clothes, you give the allowance I give you to children on the street. You think I don't know, or that it makes me angry, but it doesn't. I know you're a caring person."

She knew she was crying just from the feel of tears falling down her cheeks.

"Arthur, I was so scared. I didn't know what to do. What if I'm not a good mother?" she said and hiccuped.

Her hands went to her abdomen as she felt slightly dizzy again.

Arthur was kissing her forehead.

"You will be." he said. "I promise I won't be like your father, and you'll be a good mother."

She nodded and hoped, he was right.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked childishly.

"Yes." he said quickly. "I'll admit, I was entertaining very... insane ideas about being a single father."

She felt a cold trickle of horror at the idea of having a child and not being able to raise it, or see it grow up. Her husband had every right now to take her child away from her once it was born.

"No." she said weakly as Arthur's arms were roaming up her arms.

"It's alright." he said. "We're going to be good parents."

She nodded and suddenly felt very tired.

"I mean it." she told him. "Before the police showed up, I had decided not to go through with it."

~ "Daddy used to hold my brother under water in the bath tub when ever he was bad or got a bad mark." Ariadne explained as she curled into Arthur's arms.

She could sense there was still some tension, some resentment in him, but he seemed to want to forget about it. Still, his face looked angry.

They were lying in his large comfortable bed. Both of them still dressed except for shoes. Ariadne's feet had taken to swelling and Arthur had unbuttoned his vest.

"You actually think I would hurt any child, let alone my own?" he asked.

"I don't know any other way." she admitted. "I tried so hard to not be like my mother, and now, I'm going to be just like her."

She felt a little sad at the picture of being the dutiful house wife.

Arthur said nothing for a long time.

"Did you let that doctor touch you?" he asked not looking at her.

"He felt my stomach." she told him honestly. "Asked if I felt it move."

"You can feel it move?" he asked suspiciously.

"Not yet. But I suppose I will." she admitted. A shameful part of her fascinated by that aspect of her new and changing body.

Arthur nodded.

"So, he didn't do anything to you... to make you miscarry?" he asked.

"No. I changed my mind. When he talked about heart beats and movements." she shook her head as the memory gave her a chill.

"Let's put this behind us." he said at last.

"You're not angry at me?" she asked.

"Oh, I'm furious, but it won't do any good to be upset with you when you're still in a delicate condition." he said.

"So, you'll wait till the baby is here to be mad?" she asked teasingly.

"Exactly. Hopefully, I'll have forgotten all about this by then." he said.

She sensed he was joking with her, and felt the tightness in her chest loosen a little.

Her husband's eyes were roaming over her body now. Dropping over the loosened fastenings of her dress and how her skirt had ridden up well past her ankles.

"I think it best if you stopped wearing a corset until the baby comes." he said.

"Maybe." she said hopefully.

She swallowed hard.

"Arthur?"

He looked back at her as his hand was loosening up the stays on her dress.

"I want to have this child." she whispered.

His eyes were back. Back to the warmth they had been before. Just as quickly as they had gone cold, they reverted back to eyes she felt safe in.

"I'm glad." he whispered.

He leaned over to kiss her when they both heard an insistent rapping on the front door.

"Who could that be at this hour?" Ariadne asked as her husband looked annoyed.

The couple was roused out of their comfortable bed as whoever was at the front door wouldn't go away.

"Ariadne, stay on the landing." Arthur ordered as the glass on the front door showed three shadowed figures.

She did as she was told but kept an eye on her husband as he opened the front door downstairs.

"What is the meaning of this?" she heard him say darkly. A crisp, professional voice greeted him as two uniformed officers marched into the living room without being asked.

"What's going on here?" Arthur demanded.

"Sir, I'm Doctor Robert Fisher." a skinny black haired young man was saying as he refused to look Arthur in the eyes and seem to distain their home. "I'm here to collect Mrs. Arthur Brandon for commitment at Briarwood sanitarium."

**Sorry I haven't updated in a few days. I have WAY too many hobbies and WAY too many books to read just now. It's not fair! I'm also doing the Rosetta Stone program to learn Spanish for work. It's a really great program. I'd like to learn French next. **


	25. Chapter 25

25.

~ "Arthur?" Ariadne called out nervously. The police men in their uniforms scared her even as her husband stared them down defiantly.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur growled.

"It seems with Mrs. Brandon's arrest, as well as this most recent... moment of poor judgement, social protocol dictates we take her in for evaluation." Doctor Fisher said in his self righteous tone.

"Moments of poor judgement?" Arthur snarled.

"Yes, she saw a doctor to terminate her pregnancy this afternoon?" Fisher inquired. "Officer Cobb decided not to press any charges, but he was required by the state to report the incident to the board of mental hygiene. I'm afraid your wife will have to come with us. Please, tell her to come downstairs."

"Arthur?" Ariadne cried softly. She was afraid now. The worst, the very worst was happening now.

"Ariadne, stay there." Arthur said and held up a hand to her. Her husband turned back to the doctor.

"My wife is in a delicate condition. I want her at home where she can rest. She had a stressful day already and I won't have you or your thugs upsetting her." he said.

"Sir, I'm afraid you have no say in this matter. Extreme measures need to be taken on behalf of the unborn child. Mrs. Brandon will be taken in, quite possibly until birth and then re-evaluated to see if she is mentally competent." Fisher explained.

"Briarwood is a privatized hospital. You make a profit off your so called patients!" Arthur snapped. "She's not going anywhere."

Fisher rolled his eyes and pulled a document out of his breast pocket.

"This was sighed by a judge. Failure to hand custody over will result in your going to jail." Fisher said.

Ariadne watched as Arthur stanched the paper from Fisher and read it quickly.

"This says you only have the right to keep her a week." he said.

"For evaluation. Then, I'll determine if it's safe for her to leave." Fisher said.

"Arthur." Ariadne whispered as she knew what would happen now.

Fisher looked up the stairs at her. No shoes, short hair, dress that was already loosened from the evening and too thin for the chill outside.

"Mrs. Arthur Brandon," he said stiffly as though she were a dog. "Come downstairs. There's a good girl."

"No." Ariadne said defiantly.

Fisher raised his brows at her.

"Let's not get started on the wrong foot." he said.

Arthur had finished reading the court order.

"I'm coming with her. Just till she gets checked in." he said.

"I'm afraid not." Fisher laughed. "We must begin treatment right away."

"Arthur!" Ariadne cried as the two police men, both of them so much larger that her, were climbing the stairs to get her.

"Stay away from her!" Arthur shouted and lunged for the biggest of the men in uniform. As if expected, the ape like officer turned and neatly caught her husband.

"There, there, son. It's just for a few days." he said in a thick Irish accent. "These doctors, they know best."

"Arthur!" she cried as the other officer took a vice like hold of her wrist and pulled her downstairs.

"Get your hands off my wife!" Arthur snarled as the other cop held him at bay.

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" she screamed.

"Now, I am an expert at dealing with hysterical women." Fisher said. "You need to calm down or you'll spend your first night in treatment and it's been a very busy day for you already."

"Arthur!" she screamed as the police man picked her up.

Her husband was struggling and fighting against the Irish cop. All the noise roused Mrs. Marsh from bed who went on the defense about this invasion in the family home.

Ariadne was too small, too weak to fight the big cop who pulled her outside and into a waiting hospital carriage that was little more than a white paddy wagon.

"There's a good girl." Fisher was saying as the cop pushed her in the back and she heard the lock click into place. Her bare feet already cold from the soon to be winter.

"When we get back to the hospital, help the orderlies take her to my exam room. I want to start treatment tonight." Fisher was saying to the cop as she screamed to be let out.

She could hear her husband shouting and trying to fight the police man. She heard his deep voice threaten Fisher with a lawsuit and to release her this moment. She heard the neighbors dog barking at the disturbance and heard Fisher belittling her husband.

~ The horse was kicked into a trot and her pulse raced as she realized this was real. This wasn't a bad dream or a simple misunderstanding. This was really happening to her. She was going to the dreaded mental institution where all women who didn't smile and act happy went.

~ Briarwood started as a terberculos hospital. When a more modern sanitarium opened up in warmer climates, the state decreed it as a place for mental hygiene. There was no shortage of patients. People who drank too much, who had sexual deviations, or who thought too radically were placed here for treatment. The women's ward was a small but a quickly growing building on the far side of the spacious grounds.

"Into my exam room." Fisher ordered an orderly and a nurse. "I'll need to start treatment on Mrs. Brandon."

The nurse looked at the doctor suspiciously.

"We don't even have a chart set up for her yet." she said.

"Court order, and I'll fill out all the necessaries." Fisher told her gruffly.

Ariadne was still struggling agains the cop and it took him and the orderly to pull her into the doctor's exam room.

"On the exam table, gentlemen." Fisher said as he pulled off his neck tie and looked over Ariadne as if she were a troublesome pet. "There are restraints on the end of the table. Secure her hands, please." he added.

"Doctor?" the cop asked.

"This is a mentally disturbed woman who is a danger to me. I need to examine her and I don't want her to attack me." Fisher said darkly. "Now, secure her arms with the restrains."

The orderly didn't look at Ariadne as she cried, screamed and tried to free herself. He pulled out leather and metal restrained and lashed her writs to the exam table. The cop copying his instructions as she tried desperately to pull free.

"You'll only hurt yourself." Fisher was saying as he watched their progress.

She was panicking now. She didn't want to be restrained like this by this horrible man who had invaded her home and literally kidnaped her.

"Let me go!" she screamed as Fisher nodded to the two men to leave. The doctor checked her restraints as she struggled to free herself. Her legs kicking at him and wishing he was in range for her to hurt him.

But Fisher seemed like he knew enough to stay away from her kicking legs.

"Now, now." he said darkly. "Don't make me gag you. All this shouting, you should be ashamed."

"Let me go this instant! My husband-"

"If your husband was a decent man, you wouldn't be so out of control." Fisher said as his hands were suddenly on her dress; pulling it up.

"Stop it!" she gasped in horror.

"I'll need to examine you." he said calmly as his hands found her panties and started to pull them down.


	26. Chapter 26

26.

~ She tried to snap her legs shut at the intrusion of Doctor Fisher's hands. He, like Arthur, was so much stronger than her and easily parted them as she tried to move away. Her restrained arms keeping her lashed to the table.

"Stop it!" she shouted at him. His fingers pulling down her panties and she felt that hot, horrible creeper of shame flood her body.

She struggled against the restraints as his hands and fingers found the part of her that only Arthur touched.

"Don't!" she cried pitifully as she felt his fingers probe inside her. She wanted to cry at the horrible violation of it.

"Now, now. Pelvic massage is a very successful treatment for hysteria in women." Fisher was saying as she felt him rudely try to shove his entire hand inside her.

"No! That hurts!" she cried and tried to maneuver her hips away from him.

"We start with the hands, however." Fisher was saying as he worked his long fingers inside her. "We can use the more modern technology a pair of doctors have been utilizing with great results."

He was working his hands in her and she felt her body clam up and tightly and reject him.

"Stop." she whimpered and knew he wouldn't.

"You need to tell me when this starts to feel good." she heard him say as his hand went to her breast and started to unbutton her blouse.

"Doctor?" came a worried female voice.

Ariadne held back a sob and saw the nurse was there.

"Help me." she whimpered as Fisher was quick to remove his hand from inside her.

"Nurse, I'm in the middle of a treatment. What is it?" Fisher said curtly.

"Doctor, her husband is here and he's brought with him doctor Winslet." the nurse said as Ariadne was finally able to snap her legs shut and give a silent prayer of relief.

"Doctor Winslet has no authority here. I'm her physician." Fisher said in a grouchy tone.

"Doctor Winslet is insisting, sir." the nurse said and gave a worried look at Ariadne. "He says he examined her just a few days ago and insist that she is his patient alone."

The nurse spoke in a clear, crisp voice that said she tolerated little in life.

"Nurse, see this woman to her room. I'll go speak to the man." Fisher grumbled as he washed his hands in a nearby sink and shook them dry in frustration.

The door to the exam room slammed shut and Ariadne heard loud shouting of men. Arthur's angry roaring above all the others.

"Help me!" Ariadne cried at the nurse in her white habit as she went to her and released her restraints.

"Now, now. None of that or it's back in the harness for you." she scolded as she released her.

"No, nurse." Ariadne sobbed as she was finally freed. "He touched me. He touched me in places only my husband is allowed to."

She felt pain radiating in her body from where Fisher had put his hands on her. His horrible fingers seemed to have wounded here more that Arthur's spankings or member ever did. She hated her body now and hated the way this so called doctor made her feel.

"That's the proper treatment for hysterical women." the nurse said with a roll of her eyes. "Doctor Fisher will want to start your treatments right away. The massage is meant to relax you. It calms many a head strong girl."

"No." Ariadne sobbed.

"Now you listen." the nurse scolded. "You're lucky to have such treatment available to you."

Ariadne felt her lip quiver.

"This is a nice place with good doctors." the nurse went on. "You should see the state home."

"I'm pregnant." Ariadne hissed.

The nurses eyes widened.

"Please. They came and dragged me from my home because..." she bit her lip. She didn't want to admit her feelings about her baby just a few hours ago. "because I cut my hair and took part in a suffrage protest."

"Well, if you were a better wife, you wouldn't be here." the nurse added. "As it is, I doubt you'll be here long. That husband of yours is very good at making himself unpleasant. He's insisting on either taking you home or taking the good doctor to court."

"I want to go home!" Ariadne said hopefully.

"You'll do no such thing until I see the discharge papers and only doctor Fisher can do that. I can tell by your attitude you're a long way from being well." the nurse huffed and pulled her out of another door and down a dreary hallway painted in a dull white.

The nurse was large and strong. She managed to force Ariadne to come with her even as the other woman begged to be let go.

The building was cold and she had no shoes or stocking on. Also her under garments were left on the exam room floor.

"Please, I just want to talk to my husband!" Ariadne sobbed as the nurse deposited her in a single room that looked more like a jail cell than a hospital room.

Ariadne heard an up roar then from other women in other rooms as the nurse closed the door.

"Another bad girl?"

"In for Fisher's treatments? Oh, lucky thing!"

Ariadne sobbed as they all started to laugh.

~ The foul nurse had locked her in the tiny, closet like room for the night with only one blanket and a thin lumpy mattress to fight the chill.

She had never felt so miserable, never felt so low and so violated. She wanted to be back at home. She wanted to be safe and warm in Arthur's bed. Her husband pulling her close to his body and telling her how much he loved her. Seeing his eyes light up when he looked over her skin.

She cried for all that she had suddenly lost. What if Arthur couldn't get her out? What if she was here till her baby was born and the newborn taken away from her? What if she was here forever? It was a man's world, she was just living in it. She had no rights to anything. Not even the right to speak her mind without being ripped from her home and thrown in a place like this.

Lost in her own misery, she eventually fell into the protective bliss of sleep.

~ She woke up to keys jingling in the lock and a pudgy gentleman letting himself into her cell.

Daylight was streaming through the windows and she wondered how long she had been left to sleep.

"Good afternoon." the man with the dark hair, dark skin and almost baby like facial features said. "Are you Ariadne Brandon?"

He had an accent, but his looks were such, she wasn't sure where his nationality came from. A typical problem in New York. The people so diverse, it was hard to know what they were.

"I am." she said and fought the urge not to lay back down. The dizziness had come back and she was glad she had little to eat the past few days.

"Are you hungry?" the man asked as he pulled a chair next to her bed. She covered her body with the blankets and smoothed out her short hair.

"I'm afraid I've got morning sickness, sir." she said.

"I can have the nurses bring you some tea and soda crackers." the man offered helpfully.

She looked him over curiously. He was in a plain tweed suit, and sensible shoes. Nothing about him was very professional except his attitude, which seemed to be very wise, meek and kind.

"Thank you." she said softly.

He nodded to a lady in a crisp white nurses uniform Ariadne hadn't noticed before.

"Crackers will help to settle your stomach." the man said and crossed his legs, took up a ledger book and an ink pen.

"Who are you?" Ariadne asked weakly. Nothing about this made any sense.

"I'm so sorry. I'm Doctor Yuseff. My work is illness of the mind." he said with a soft smile.

"You think I'm crazy? You're here to make sure I never leave this place?" she accused.

"Do you think others want you here forever?" he asked instead of answering.

"Well," she sniffed and tried to find the answer. "I'm scared. I don't want to be here."

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I want to go home."

"Why?"

"It's safe there. My husband..." she almost choked on the words. "he's a nice man."

"I've been told you've been acting irrationally. If you're so happy at home, why to act that way?" Yuseff asked.

"I am happy at home." she snapped as the nurse brought her tea and a sleeve of salty crackers. She was suddenly very hungry. "It's the rest of the world that makes me unhappy."

"Tell me why." Yuseff said and started writing.

"Well, the fact that it's legal for a woman to be drug kicking and screaming from her home when she's committed no crime is a little irritating." Ariadne sighed.

"Understandable." Yuseff agreed.

"Also." Ariadne swallowed her crackers and thought a moment. "Women aren't protected are they? I live in a nice home and my husband is good to me, but what if he wasn't? The law would protect him, but not me. If I were to divorce him, I would be punished. I would be penniless, friendless. It's not fair how the way the world is."

Yuseff nodded as she went on. Describing how she had no choice but to marry her husband. How her mother had allowed her brother to be abused. How her father hit her. How she was so unsure about marriage and having a baby. How she went to that doctor about an abortion because she wasn't sure she would make a good mother. How she loved to go to her women's meeting because she felt like her own person again. That she didn't want to just be Mrs. Arthur Brandon, but Mrs. _Ariadne_ Brandon. That she cut her hair because it made her feel like the person she _wanted_ to be. That she could never be this perfect wife and mother, and she was sorry that it would hurt Arthur. She even told him about the poor flower seller with no shoes.

"Ariadne." Yuseff finally sighed. "Would it shock you terribly if I told you there was no such thing as a perfect wife and mother?"

She looked at him with a scowl and he smiled.

"This ideal of family life is just an illusion." he admitted. "Everyone feels the same way you do from time to time. We all feel helpless and frustrated. Like we have no control over our own fate in this world."

"But women feel it most of all." Ariadne insisted. "I have no rights, no choices, no options."

"I understand that." Yuseff said. "But you have the choice of letting it make you miserable."

"I'm not miserable." she said quickly. She felt her heart swell at the thought of Arthur and her home with him. "I love my husband. I think... I think I might even want to have this child. But I don't want to be one of those women who smile and act happy when they're not. I want..." she fought for the right words. "I want to find my own happiness."

"What will make you happy?" Yuseff said. "A divorce? Freedom?"

She shook her head.

"It made me happy to have a cause. It made me happy to stand up for myself and others." she told him. "Before, I felt like my only goal in life was to get married and die. Now, my life has meaning. The meetings, fighting for the vote, they all mean something and they matter. I'm not just someone's wife... I'm a person."

She saw that clever, amused smiled dart over his baby face.

"Well, Mrs. Brandon." he said and put his pen away. "I think, based on our interview today, that you'll be released within the hour."

She looked back at him in shock.

"What?"

He nodded.

"I was appointed to make a mental health exam on you. Your husband knows a thing or two about standing up for others to. He wanted the judge to overturn that silly order to have you brought here and I see no evidence you are mentally unfit." he explained.

She felt her spirits take flight as she stared at him; open mouthed.

"I can_ leave_?" she breathed.

"It may take a few hours." he said.

"So, I'm not crazy... for protesting or... not wanting a baby?" she asked.

"No." he said easily. "Not in the slightest. "Rather, it shows you take motherhood very seriously. A thing that should be taken seriously and a woman who worries that she won't be a good mother is more apt to try harder at the task." he said.

She let out a sigh of relief.

"As for the protesting. It's not at all mad to want your life to mean something. If it were, the greatest minds in history would have amounted to nothing." he explained.

"Thank you, doctor." she gasped and wanted to hug him. But thought that was to un-lady like, so she sat on the edge of her bed and ate the soda craters and drank her tea. Her stomach happy at the thought she was going home. Her baby would be safe and with her, and she wasn't a mad woman after all.

For the first time in a long time, she felt a light of happiness bloom inside her.

Yuseff asked her a few more questions about herself and what she planned to do once she got home. She wanted tell him about Fisher and how that so called doctor had put his hands on her, but kept her lips tightly sealed whenever she wanted to say something. It wouldn't do to accuse someone like a doctor of misconduct. Even if he claimed it was treatment.

She was going home. That was all that mattered.


	27. Chapter 27

27.

~ The elation at the prospect of freedom was intoxicating. Never before had Ariadne longed for home and the simple comforts it gave her. This so called hospital was too cold and uncomfortable and she never felt safe. She kept looking over her shoulder for Fisher to come into her little room alongside his foul nurse.

But less than an hour later, another nurse came to collect her. Ariadne, still without shoes, had to walk on the freezing cold floors to the waiting rooms to be discharged.

She felt dirty and sore all over from her stay. Not to mention Fisher's assault, but felt the air leave her body at the sight of her husband in the waiting room. His suit was wrinkled, his hair uncombed and it was noticeable he hadn't shaved that morning.

"Arthur?" she gasped as she forgot her cold, bare, feet and how wretched she felt.

He turned and his face looked worn and tired.

Was is possible he had spent all night here protesting for her release?

"Are you alright?" he asked as she was easily in his arms. His large hands wrapping around her waist as she inspected his wrinkled clothing and untidy appearance.

"Arthur, did you stay here all night?" she questioned. She felt guilty now that she at least had a bed while he might have had to sleep on one of the hard chairs or gotten no sleep at all.

"I'm fine." he murmured and took her small hand in his large one as she was trying to smooth out his hair. She had never seen him so wretched looking and found it very distressing. His immaculate appearance was her constant in a world that was forever changing.

"I'm fine." he insisted as she fought not to cry. "Ariadne," his voice was low and husky. "Did they hurt you at all?"

She bit her lip hard and shook her head. It was a lie, but it was a lie to protect him. She felt the truth would hurt Arthur and that was the last thing she wanted. Also, she worried that to tell him what Fisher had done, would cause her husband to look at her differently. Not with the love and knowledge that he alone had ever touched her. She wanted to keep that look in his eyes for her.

"Can we go home?" she whispered and he nodded.

~ "I forgot to bring you shoes." he said darkly as the sight of snow on the ground made Ariadne gasp.

Her bare feet were stinging at the ice cold concrete and she didn't look forward to the walk to the carriage.

She didn't have to think about it too much however. Arthur lifted her up as if she were a small child and carried her to the waiting cabbie. She half expected Eames to be waiting for her, but it was just another one of the thousands of drivers in the city today.

She tried not to show her pleasure at being heroically carried out of this place by her handsome husband and into a waiting cab. But the thrill of it gave her a giddy feeling as she nestled her nose in his chest.

~ "I missed the first snow fall." she said sadly as she looked out at the streets covered with snow. It was quickly turning from white to muddy black with the traffic in the city. Snow or no, the people still came out and went to work.

Arthur had made sure she was covered up with his own coat and she didn't protest. She watched the people going about their daily lives with an interest she had never had before. Suddenly, she couldn't see the dirty children anymore with their horrible fighting and their ill tended clothing.

She saw happy children running errands for their parents in coats and dresses that had been lovingly and carefully mended to last another winter.

She saw immigrants who were pleased to have a job to go to. Mothers who held their children's hands as they walked across the street.

Gone was the dirty and ugly parts of it and she wondered why.

The horse stopped to let a crowd of people cross the street and Ariadne spotted her flower seller at the corner. She wasn't selling the bright purple flowers today, but she and what looked like her brother, were selling hot peanuts that were roasted on an open grill and then wrapped in newspaper.

She had to smile as they had a lot of customers and the little girl wore a scruffy pair of work boots to protect her feet. She wondered if the money she had given last week had afforded the boots and perhaps the new business of peanut selling.

It was a thought that cheered her all the way home.

~ "Thank you." Ariadne said as the warm water blanketed her body and every worry or trouble started to melt away.

Arthur nuzzled her freshly washed and damp hair.

The bathtub was large enough for both of them and she wondered why they had never taken a bath together before.

It was the first thing Mrs. Marsh insisted upon when they arrived home. Not suspecting that Arthur wouldn't leave his wife. Instead they had easily fallen into the tub together and enjoyed the rich, warm water and steam that curled off their skin.

"For what?" he whispered as he pulled her closer to him. The rich lavender bath salts were making her feel sleepy and sedated. As if she could take a wonderful nap right here in the water with him.

"For hiring Dr. Yuseff." she said.

"What was I supposed to do?" he said darkly. "Allow my wife to stay in that awful place?"

She tried to fight her need to talk back. She wanted so much to be a good wife.

"I thought, that you wanted me there." she said at last.

"No." he whispered as he started to wash her back again. "Never."

"I thought you wanted me there because I wasn't a good wife." she admitted.

"You are a good wife." he said automatically.

She shook her head, but didn't argue. She didn't want to anymore.

~ Arthur dried her body when the water got too cold. Brisk, purposeful movements of the towel over her skin made her giggle.

"Gently." she told him when he reached her breasts.

"My apologies, dear." he teased as she started kissing him.

"I'm rather tired." she said lamely as her skin prickled hot at the fact they were both naked in her bathroom.

"So am I." he whispered as his eyes looked lustfully over her body.

"I should really go to bed and rest." she said and tried to pull away.

His hands quickly caught her and refused to let her go.

"So should I." he teased.

~ Arthur was rarely in her bed. Except for the few time he had taken his privilege early in their marriage, when he had shyly knocked on her door and the whole thing had been awkward, uncomfortable and best forgotten about.

Now, things were different.

He practically chased her to her bed as the warm fire crackled merrily in the hearth and the snow outside continued to fall.

"You look beautiful." he growled as they fell, naked onto of the covers.

She found she wasn't so ashamed of being naked around him lately. Her body yearned for him now. The secretive places she never understood about her were awake and demanded attention.

"Touch me." she whispered when he broke off their kiss.

His eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief as she guided his hand between her legs. Her womanhood damp despite being dried just a few moments ago. Her heated desire ravenous as his fingers gently tickled her there.

She gasped with delight as his hands, hard and strong rubbed over her, but didn't dare penetrate.

She seized his lips in hers as her own hand guided his to the places that sent a giddy rush of happiness to her blood.

She loved the feel of his callused hands over the delicate skin of her desire. Her body become like fire as he rubbed and tormented her. Her hands directing him to a strange part of her wetness that sent shivers of rapture through her body.

Arthur was compliant and giving as she demanded more. Her moans becoming uncontrollable as she no longer had the strength to show him where to touch and had to leave him to his own judgement.

He rubbed her with a wonderful rhythm and when she ordered him to go deeper, he did. When she wanted him to take her, he mounted her without question. He slid into her easily and her body wanted more of him with each thrust. Her orgasms kept coming as he refused to let her go. Refused to stop for a moment till she had reached his own completion and the both fell blissfully asleep.

**~ Three Months Later ~ **

~ "You're little friends made the papers again today." Arthur grumbled over breakfast.

Ariadne was deeply emerged in the book doctor Yuseff had lent her. Phycology was a fascinating subject and she devoured the knowledge as greedily as she did her breakfast.

"What about this time?" she laughed.

"It seems they weren't content with just dressing up as men and trying to vote." Arthur said bitterly as he looked over his paper. "They stopped traffic with their protest yesterday."

"I know, I had to miss it." Ariadne said sadly. She hated letting her friends down, but she found herself too busy with her other projects lately.

She never had time now with preparing the nursery, studying for the entrance exams to Barnard and keeping up with her reading.

Arthur wasn't against her wanting to go to college after the baby was born. His attitude had been one of relief that she had found a more constructive outlet than getting arrested. He was especially pleased she was letting her hair grow back out.

"Well, I'm very glad you missed it. Much happier to have you in a class room learning about Fraud than on the streets." Arthur said and nodded at the book Yuseff lent her.

"Freud." She corrected

"Fraud, Freud." he sighed. "Same thing."

"You're just mad because you know he's right about the male preoccupation with size." she challenged and helped herself to another piece of toast.

"Speaking of size." Arthur nodded to her large belly. "I think it's time we go out and get you some new clothes."

She hardly thought of the little one lately. In her mind, she knew a child would be born in a few months, but she could still scarcely believe it.

A person. A person who wasn't here before would suddenly come into existence and be apart of their lives.

She places a hand over her growing belly and had to agree that her dresses were all far too tight now.

"Nervous?" Arthur teased.

She didn't look at him and tried not to smile.

"I'll see what Freud has to say about the male preoccupation with procreation." she said with a giggle.

"I assure you, Mrs. Brandon it's an honorable pursuit. One that has been beneficial to the human race." he said hotly.

She covered her moth so not to laugh. The morning sickness had finally passed, the baby was kicking her and she felt happy about it.

She also felt excited about her own future. Not just a life with Arthur and a child, but about school and learning things again. She wasn't sure where it would lead, but felt it gave her life purpose again.

"Arthur?" she said as she watched him look over his paper.

He turned back to her, his eyes soft and kind.

"I do love you." she said softly.

He gave her smile that was gentle and easy.

"I love you to." he said.

She bit her lip and thought once more to tell him about what Fisher had done to her in that exam room.

She had told Yuseff about it. How she had felt about it and how it was little more than rape disguised as treatment. An argument he agreed with.

Each time she was about to tell her husband about it, she couldn't. Something in her screamed to never say a word about it. That such a thing would hurt him too much. Arthur was protective and he might not look at her with the same affection if he knew.

So, she kept it to herself and tried to forget.

"You know what would make a fascinating study?" she offered with a shaky breath.

"What's that?" Arthur asked as he ate a pice of toast.

She glanced at him mischievously.

"The sexual gratification that comes with inflicting punishment." she said in her most professional voice.

She didn't look at Arthur as her cheeks burned. She cold feel his eyes on her as she sipped her water and tried to look innocent.

"I think such a thing would require a lot of research." he said in a harsh voice. A voice that hinted he was excited and hopeful.

She felt her lips curl into a smile and looked over at him.

"Are you sure... that it won't be too dangerous?" he asked looking over her growing body.

"I think the area of normal punishment will be fine." she said happily. "For now." she added quickly.

Arthur was grinning and she thought she saw the faint hint of a blush creep over his face.

"My, my Mrs. Brandon." he laughed. "What would Doctor Fraud say?"

"_Freud_ would say I'm a sexually deprived woman in desperate need of a husband's attention." she said hotly. "A thing that is your sworn duty to provide."

"I'm never one to shirk duty." he sighed and pretended to be put out.

He looked over at her as she was smiling.

"Go upstairs." he ordered.

** ~ END ~**

**Thank you all for reading this story. **

**It started out as just an erotica. One where Arthur just gives his girl a good spanking. But it wanted to be more, so I let it. **

** Pelvic massage, what Fisher did to Ariadne, was a real treatment in Victorian times. It was used to treat hysteria and lead to the invention of the sex toys. Doctors really would sexually stimulate their female patients to bring on orgasms because it would calm them. **

** I also wanted to show that we're so lucky to live in a time and a part of the world where women's rights have happened. Where we have the right to divorce an abusive husband, to marry who we choose, to fight against rape and oppression. **

**As a proud Texan, I'm ashamed of Rick Perry and his misogynistic attitude that he has always had.**

** I'm currently working on a new story called "The Black Bell". **

**It's another historical piece and I'll used A&A because it's just easier to write this way and I think my readers like to picture JGL as the hero. **


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